The Feral Twins
by ContraryToEverything
Summary: Harry and his twin sister are raised by Bellatrix who is on a mission to find the Dark Lord. Pre-Hogwarts. Sequel to "The Feral Twins." Grey-Dark-Twins. Re-post
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Reposting an old story. I wanted to rewrite it (Heart of Black) and got completely side-tracked by life. But thanks to everyone who read and liked it! I do appreciate the views!

**Prologue**

Late Fall 1984

The young child with white-blond hair and clear grey eyes shied away from the towering dark-haired woman who had a crazed look in her heavy-lidded eyes. He all but pressed himself into the lush magical persian rug, with its writhing vines and blooming flowers, all in an attempt to move away from the woman, even if all he managed was a few measly centimetres. The woman's behaviour was nothing like his mother's - his mother who was nearly as blond as himself, with her serene smiles, and gentle hands on his shoulder, as light as the touch of a butterfly. And yet, some part of him saw that the dark-haired woman had a face so much like his own mother's; it was like a strange mirror distortion that confused his mind and made his insides feel funny.

"Hello widdle baby," the dark hair woman cooed, while the white-blond child forced himself not to cry. He was a _big_ boy, and big boys did not cry when faced with scary ladies. Especially when the scary lady in question was his aunt. "Hello widdle Dwaco."

Her hand was reaching towards him, carding through his hair, and then clenching so tight that the pulling sting made his eyes water, and he whimpered.

"Bella," came a familiar graceful voice from the doorway. His mother! "Bella, stop that. You're not well yet and you mustn't leave the care of your healers - not so soon after leaving Azkaban."

The grip in his hair loosened. "But Cissy," the scary lady whinged in a baby-ish voice, pouting her lips which were a sickly purplish-red. "He likes me!"

His mother hummed, and gave Aunt Bella a tight smile. "My dragon is a little gentleman." There was pride in her voice, and the little boy felt his heart swell with love and pride, even though his head still stung from his hair being pulled. "But nonetheless, you must stay with the healers. I will bring Draco to see you later, and we will visit together. Come along Bella."

His mother led the scary lady - Aunt Bella away, and the white-blond child, Draco, breathed a small sigh of relief. He returned to playing with his wooden blocks, which, if placed just so, began to form intricate little architectural details, like arches, or flying buttresses, or tiny stained glass windows - but if the blocks happened to be knocked over or moved out of place, they returned to being ordinary wooden blocks. Aside from the blocks, were little moving figurines - jaunty knights with clinking armour, waving their tiny swords around, minstrels with bitty little lutes and harps, and fussy little damsels in velvet dresses and shiny coronet's on their heads.

Draco was not alone in the immense room, which was his nursery within his family's stately manor. A house-elf, which was a short, magical creature bound to serve and follow his family's commands, stood in the corner, keeping its ridiculously large eyes on Draco to assure that he would come to no harm. The house-elf did not physically need to be in the room with him. If any harm were to befall him, then no matter where they were in the house, the house-elves could appear and disappear at will, protecting Draco from any threats and dangers. But although Draco did not admit this out loud (not even to his beautiful and graceful and lovely mother), he did not want to be all alone, even while he was just playing, and so he commanded the house-elf, named Wiffim, to stay with him.

He did not know if or when his mother would return, but he was desperately relieved that she had taken the scary lady - Aunt Bella - away. And although he knew he would have to visit her later, it would be all right, because his mother would be with him, and Draco knew that his mother would never, ever let him come to harm, not even from the scariest of ladies in all the world.

-o-

In the coming months, Draco did not find living with Aunt Bella to be any easier, even if she was only permitted to visit him under the careful supervision of his mother. Unfortunately, Aunt Bella did not handle supervision well, and though Draco was at the impressive age of four years old, Aunt Bella sometimes threw tantrums that were worse than anything the he had ever managed, with ear-piercing shrieks, and the destruction of magical vases and figurines (some of which put themselves back together,) and screams about someone called 'the Dark Lord' that Aunt Bella just had to find, because 'he's out there! Waiting for me!'

If Draco knew the meaning of the word obsessed, he would have said that Aunt Bella was obsessed with the Dark Lord. Aunt Bella might have called it something else: devotion, or love perhaps. Once, Draco had asked his mother if Aunt Bella was married to the Dark Lord because devotion and love were for husbands and wives, just like his mother and father, wasn't that so? But his mother had only paled, and gave him one of her feather-light touches on the cheek, and said, "No, my dragon. Your Aunt Bella is - was married to Rodolphus Lestrange. He sacrificed himself in Azkaban to free her."

It was a long time before Draco learned the true horrors of the wizarding prison known as Azkaban. The way his parents spoke of it, it almost sounded like the unpleasant home of an unfavourable distant relation with bad manners that nobody wanted to visit.

It might not have been so bad if Aunt Bella had only been obsessed with the Dark Lord. The way Aunt Bella described him, he sounded like a hero from legends, with a level of magical power and talent that was unequalled, and a vision of a purer and better world for those that really mattered. Since Draco himself, and his mother and father counted as 'those that mattered,' being as they were pure-blood witches and wizards, Draco thought it all sounded rather nice.

Of course, Draco was also aware that the Dark Lord had been defeated by a pair of one-year-old twins (and _everyone_ who was anyone knew about the Twins-Who-Lived) so it was rather difficult for his four-year-old mind to reconcile the image of an all-powerful Dark Lord who could not even muster the ability to vanquish a pair of babies. But then again, the Twins-Who-Lived were _special_.

No, if all Aunt Bella was obsessed with with the Dark Lord, then life here at Malfoy manor would be quite charmed indeed, but Aunt Bella was (to Draco's dismay) also obsessed with _him_. Or at least the idea of him, because Aunt Bella always wanted to hold him, and coo at him, and muss up his hair, and speak to him in that dreadful voice that was meant for babies and _not _big boys like him. For although Aunt Bella was older than his mother, she did not have any children of her own, and while Aunt Bella might not say it out loud, it was clear, through her actions, that she longed for children. But Draco suspected it was more than that - he was an observant child, and Aunt Bella was a (very) loud and outspoken woman, and he had the impression that Aunt Bella dreamed not only of a pure-blood world, but a of a family, with children of her own, and the Dark Lord at her side.

-o-

The longer that Aunt Bella stayed at Malfoy manor, the more bearable her presence became, not just because Draco's parents had hired the best (and most expensive) healers, but because Aunt Bella had a tendency to simply disappear, sometimes for days on end, with no regard to her own safety or the chance of capture. In other words, Aunt Bella's presence was bearable, in large part due to the very lack of it.

Draco's mother and father did not exactly know where Aunt Bella went - mother pleaded and begged for Aunt Bella to stay at home, and to consider her life and safety, but Aunt Bella just cackled (yes, cackled), and said: "I do as I wish, Cissy" as though that was all the reason that was needed.

But Aunt Bella's whereabouts were not entirely unknown, for Aunt Bella was not one to keep her cards close to hand.

"I'm going to find them," Aunt Bella had declared more than once, in her sing-sing way that she sometimes spoke. "I'm going to find them, and curse them, and rip them to little bitty bits, and put them back together just so I can do it again." There was always a manic light in Aunt Bella's eyes as she said this, and the look on her face was the look that Draco sometimes got when he was given his most favourite treat to eat. That particular treat being Bluebell-flame bonbons, that tasted like melted bliss, and caused one to breath pretty blue sweet-tasting flames for minutes afterwards.

As for the 'them' she was speaking of, Aunt Bella was referring to the Twins-Who-Lived. Draco wasn't sure of how he felt about this. One one hand, the Twins-Who-Lived were regarded as heroes in the wizarding world, and a part of Draco wanted, very much, to meet them because he was sure that they would be remarkable (and better yet, they were his age, which was four-soon-to-be-five.) On the other hand, the Twins-Who-Lived were in opposition to the Dark Lord, and while father might be convinced that the Dark Lord had been vanquished and killed all those many years ago, it was hard to argue Aunt Bella's certainty that the Dark Lord was Alive (even if it was an insane sort of certainty.)

"Watch your language, and don't be ridiculous, Bella," his mother had scolded, sitting elegantly on a chaise lounge in the north sitting room with her hands neatly folded on her lap. "You know how well protected those twins are by the Light. All you're doing is putting yourself at risk, and I won't have you captured and returned to Azkaban. You were there only a few years, and look what it has done to your health!"

"Nonsense, Cissy," Aunt Bella retorted, her voice filled with conviction as she paced. "It's only a matter of time. I will find them, and then I will find the Dark Lord, and bring him back to his full powers and the rewards -" Aunt Bella trailed off, her face somewhere between crazed and dreamy, which was a disturbing combination. Draco didn't want to know what she might be imagining. Probably something disgusting, like kissing. He turned his thoughts away, and focused back on the picture book on his lap, which depicted a soaring griffin that kept trying to nip at his fingers, whenever he touched the page.

"The Dark Lord has not been sighted since the day he attacked those twins. If he were alive, wouldn't there have been a sign?"

"Your lack of faith sickens me, Cissy," Aunt Bella replied, her voice suddenly flat, and her eyes hard, which was always a sign of danger. But Draco's mother had always been adept at navigating her sister's moods.

"I suppose you would know better than I, dear Bella," Draco's mother said, so smoothly and serenely, that one could not help but feel calmed by it. "You were one of the closest to the Dark Lord after all."

At this, Aunt Bella smiled, the hardness melting away like the thaw of snow in spring, looking supremely self-satisfied. "I was, wasn't I?"

"I worry for you Bella. So many were lost in the last war. I thought I had lost you as well when you and Rodolphus were captured and sentenced to Azkaban."

Aunt Bella edged around the elegant coffee table and sat next to her sister on the chaise, taking her hand. "I will succeed Cissy. We are Blacks. The world is our peach, and we need only pluck it."

Draco tilted his head, and looked curiously at Aunt Bella. Both Aunt Bella and his mother were daughters of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, but mother was a Malfoy now, wasn't she? And Draco rather thought that there was just as much (if not more) pride in being a Malfoy. They were one of the richest and most influential families after all - father couldn't be wrong about that. But Draco said nothing - it would only draw Aunt Bella's attention and she would start fussing over him again.

-o-

It was late summer, in 1985. Aunt Bella was gone again - it had been days now, and Draco's father was furious. Being the refined and elegant pure-blood that he was, Lucius Malfoy did not show his anger through shouts and gestures. Rather, he clutched his walking stick, decorated with a silver snake-head, tightly enough that his knuckles were white. His voice was clipped and tense, and his grey eyes were flinty.

"This is unacceptable, Narcissa," Draco's father gritted out. They were sitting at the vast dining table, polished so that the swirling wood shone brightly under the candlelight. "Everytime she disappears, it puts us at risk. You _know_ what will happen if word gets out that we've been harbouring an Azkaban escapee. Even if they cannot prove anything, it would be detrimental to our reputation."

"She will not get caught," Draco's mother replied, as tranquil as ever, before taking a sip of elf-made wine. Draco could not tell if her mother truly believed those words, or if she was just saying so to appease Draco's father.

"That woman is completely reckless and irresponsible. You cannot keep encouraging her. Even if she succeeds at this mad quest of hunting down and killing the Twins-Who-Lived, what then? She'll have all of the Ministry and the Law upon her head, and nowhere she goes will be safe for her, or for us. Not to mention her conviction that the Dark Lord is still alive."

"What are you implying, Lucius dear?"

Draco glanced between his mother and father, as the tension in the room became weightier. Though it was unspoken, Draco knew that his father believed Aunt Bella to be insane (or if not that, then at least partially-insane.) Though Draco might not say it out loud, he suspected that his father was right. But if one thing could be said of the Black sisters, it was that they were loyal to each other (or at least Draco believed this to be so - at this point, he was still unaware of yet another Black sister that had been disowned, long ago.)

"I only wish for what is best for this family," Draco's father finally admitted.

Draco's mother smiled, and there was a genuine softness to her eyes that only added to her ethereal, pale beauty. To see them at this moment was to know that the Malfoys had a love match, no matter how cold and icy their demeanours may have seemed to outsiders.

The topic moved on to other (more boring) matters. Draco's father asked about his lessons with the tutor, and spoke of the going-ons at the Ministry. At five, it was difficult for Draco to understand complicated political matters, and know why the Wizengamot had voted a certain way, or why an increase in funding in a certain department resulted in so-and-so implication for (filthy) muggleborn families.

All Draco really knew about muggles (non-magical humans) and muggleborns (magical humans born from muggles) was that they were disgusting, dirty and unworthy mudbloods. Being five, Draco was convinced that this was quite literal - if you cut a muggleborn, they would bleed sludgy mud. Why else would they be called mudbloods? It was a long while before Draco truly understood the truth: that 'mudblood' was a term meant to degrade witches and wizards who were born from muggles.

It was over a week later when Aunt Bella returned, looking rather bedraggled (and was that blood that was staining her robes?), with a crazed, animalistic-grin on her face, and two gaunt and haunted looking children, clutching at her skirts, with unruly mops of raven-black hair and eyes as green as polished emeralds. Aunt Bella had entered the house by way of a secret entrance that led to the kitchens, and it was only by chance that Draco had been there (intending to steal a cinnamon biscuit before dinner).

It took all of Draco's effort not to flinch at the sight of his Aunt, but his eyes still widened, and they widened even more when he noticed the pair of children clinging on to her. To Draco, who was accustomed to playmates from other pure-blood families who were just as refined and well-dressed as himself, it was a shock to look upon the two skinny little urchins who could probably use a bath or ten (followed by a good dose of force-feeding to put something on their pitiful bird-like bones). Even more surprising was that the boy (at least Draco thought it was the boy) had scars and sores ringing his entire neck, which looked red and swollen and raw.

"Draco, my sweet," Aunt Bella cooed when she noticed him gawping at her. She looked down at the two children with a bizarre smile between predatory and affectionate, and rested her hands upon their heads. "Meet my new babies."

-o-

Early Spring 1987

"Bella? Bella! What have you done?! Tizzy! Call a healer! And Lucius - get Lucius!"

There was a sharp couple of cracks that indicated the arrival and disappearance of the house-elf. Harry groaned and peeled open his eyes, immediately searching for his twin sister, Holly. He recognized the voice of Auntie Cissy (though she much preferred to be called Aunt Narcissa), but paid the older woman no heed. A short ways away from him, Holly opened her eyes, and they were a brilliant green, the exact shade as his own. She peered towards her brother, and gave him a reassuring smile, reaching out her hand towards him. The twins clasped hands, and the magic between them seemed to flow and hum with a sweet familiarity. It was the feeling of _home_.

A short while later, a blond-haired man entered the room, followed by an older man with chaotic wiry grey hair who quickly knelt down next to the dark-haired Bellatrix, who remained unconscious. The blond man was Uncle Lucius and as for the grey-haired man, that was possibly the healer.

"What has she done?" Lucius Malfoy demanded of his wife, as he took in the scene before him. It was one of the unused bedrooms in the Malfoy manor, cleared of all furnishing - even the rugs. The floor was black marble, covered with three huge concentric circles drawn in blood. The spaces between the circles were filled with archaic symbols, drawn with a potion made of blood, phoenix eyes, unicorn horns, dragon-underbelly scales and snake venom.

The blood in question was a mix between Bellatrix Lestrange's, Harry Potter's and Holly Potter's. Though at this point, they would be Potters no more, for both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy recognized the ritual that had been performed. It was an extremely powerful (and highly illegal) blood adoption ritual - one that could have very well killed them, and worse yet, it wasn't considered legally binding because of the Dark nature of the ritual itself. After all, the wizarding world that they lived in feared and reviled anything related to the Dark Arts and Dark Magic.

"Bella?" Narcissa Malfoy pleaded again, placing a hand on her sister's pale cheeks, tracing the sharp cheekbones. The healer muttered a series of spells that caused a dance of lights over Bellatrix's body, and the dark-haired woman's eyes fluttered open. Bellatrix gave Narcissa a slow smile, and to a stranger, the smile would have looked like pure seduction, but it was simply Bellatrix's way, to act with a mix of heady allure and madness.

"My babies?" Bellatrix croaked out, pushing herself into a sitting position, and looking over at the two bodies that were within the circle with her. Harry and Holly were both fully awake now, and had moved to a cross-legged position on the floor, knees touching.

"Mama," they both replied. It was a bit of an infantile address, but Bellatrix preferred it to the more formal 'mother' (that Draco used) or 'mum.' She scrambled over to them, and clutched them close to her.

"Babies!" she crooned, rocking them back and forth. It made them incredibly dizzy, in large part because they had both lost so much blood, but they only held onto her, Harry rubbing her back and Holly stroking her hair. Bellatrix pulled away to get a better look at their faces. The differences were subtle - the inky black hair and green eyes still remained (which was disappointing. Bellatrix had hoped that the unicorn horn would burn away all impurities of their mudblood mother's blood, as it was supposed to). It was a ritual meant to make the children share her own blood, and thus, making them pure-blood children (as was naturally the best). Still, the differences were there - their bone structure looked a little more defined, and their eyes were slightly more deep-set. They had already had full eyelashes, but somehow, their lashes were even thicker and longer, so much like Bellatrix's own.

"Babies," she murmured again, giving them a slow smile, and petting their cheeks, which were finally filling out, after nearly two years worth of decent food at the Malfoy manor. Life here was nothing like what the Twins-Who-Lived had dealt with before. Life here was _good_.

-o-

After giving Bellatrix and the twins several phials of blood-replenishing potion, and an admonishment to never do such a foolish thing again (which had earned the healer a look of the deepest scorn from Bellatrix,) the healer was sent on his way.

Narcissa herded Bellatrix and the twins towards Bellatrix's chambers, determined to put them all to bed, but Bellatrix only made it as far as her sitting room before she crumbled into a graceful heap onto the velvet sofa, and refused to budge. With a small put-upon sigh, Narcissa sat down on the armchair next to her.

"I can take care of myself, Cissy," Bellatrix said, stubbornly. "Babies!" This was said in her sing-sing voice. "Come sit with mama."

Narcissa glanced over to the twins. They look that they gave Bellatrix was a mix that was equal parts adoration and worship. Harry and Holly looked at Bellatrix as though she were the reason that the sun rose and set each day, and it made Narcissa think about what life had been like for the twins before Bellatrix found them and brought them here.

Narcissa could remember the day that the children arrived vividly: _Bellatrix had left the kitchen, and was taking the twins up to her chambers when she was intercepted by Narcissa and Lucius near the grand staircase._

"_Bella?" Narcissa had asked, hesitant, as her eyes took in every detail of the scene before her, including the famous lightning-bolt scar on the boy's forehead, and the red rawness of the boy's neck. "What is this?"_

"_Are these the Potter children?" Lucius had asked, and to Narcissa's alarm, his voice was raised. Lucius never raised his voice. "What are they doing here, Bellatrix? Don't tell me you mean to finish the job off in our home?!"_

"_Finish -" Bellatrix looked over at Lucius with wide, blank eyes that only served to make her look more insane than ever. But then comprehension seemed to sink in, and the blankness was replaced with a terrifying fury. How dare Lucius suggest that Bellatrix would kill the children!_

_Without realizing her own actions, Bellatrix had her hand grasped around her wand, and had taken a step towards Lucius; however, the two children clinging at the skirts brought her back to reality, and the fury was reduced to a low angry simmer._

"_No one harms my babies," Bellatrix avowed, the words a threat. Lucius narrowed his eyes but said nothing more._

"_Bella." Narcissa closed the distance between her and her sister, and noticed that the twins cringed at her presence, pressing themselves so close to Bellatrix that it was as though they meant to merge with her. Taken aback, Narcissa's steps faltered._

"_Bella, please, tell me what's going on? Why are you calling the Potter twins your -" Narcissa hesitated, "- your babies?"_

_Bella peered down at the twins, and smiled at them with a look that was a mix of Bellatrix's natural wildness, mixed with what seemed like possessiveness. She stroked their heads, as though they were kittens, before looking back at Narcissa._

"_I was going to find them," Bellatrix answered, her voice taking on a dreamy far-away quality that matched the blankness that had returned to her eyes. Narcissa felt a knife-like twist in her heart - it hurt her to see her beloved sister this way, even if she had been like this since childhood. "I was going to find them and curse them and kill them, and kill them again, the bitty ickle Potters."_

"_That doesn't explain anything," Lucius muttered under his breath. Narcissa looked back at him and shot him a quick angry glare, before turning back to her sister._

"_Bella?"_

"_I was going to rip them to shreds, and I was so close too. Imagine my delight when I finally found them!" Bellatrix cackled. "The Light side thought they were so well hidden, but then again, they haven't dealt with the likes of me." Now, there was a feral grin that looked horribly incongruous with Bellatrix's blank eyes. "You should have seen them, the ickle twinsies. Dressed in rags worse than anything a house-elf would wear. The boy, collared by a rope, snarling like a beast whenever _they _came near his sister."_

"_They?"_

"_Those disgusting, filthy muggles." Bellatrix's eyes seemed to clear up and she looked her sister in the eye. "Those mudblood-lovers had us fooled, talking about Wuv and the Wight and Gwoodness. But you should have seen the filthy muggles that the twins were forced to stay with. Fat, useless lumps of flesh, not worth a heap of hippogriff dung." Bellatrix snarled. "They were forced to work themselves raw, and sleep in a cupboard, and were beaten for the slightest infraction. They _dared _to call them freaks. Those muggles! Calling a witch and a wizard freaks! And widdle Harry here was kept leashed, and chained and treated like a cur for trying to protect his sister, just because of the way her sweet magic would lash out at them - yes!" _

_Bellatrix looked down at Holly with manic fondness. "And such magic she has - such beautiful, dark, bewitching -" Bellatrix trailed off, as she pet the girl, who pressed herself against Bellatrix's side._

"_Sweet babies," Bellatrix crooned. _

"_Bella?"_

_Bellatrix looked back up at her sister, and that dreamy look returned. "I watched the twins for days. I thought it was a trick, you see? I was thinking like a Slytherin - but those Light-sided fools wouldn't know a trick if it spat in their eye. Those mudblood-lovers really had placed the twins with those disgusting muggles. Those filthy, wretched, screaming, howling, begging-for-mercy, bloody -"_

"_Bella! Enough!"_

"_I knew when I felt the twin's magic that they were to be mine," Bellatrix continued, petting the twins once again. "Once you've tasted the Dark Lord's beautiful magic, you never forget it."_

"_What are you talking about, Bella?" Narcissa wondered if this was another one of Bellatrix's 'quirks.' Even as a child, Bellatrix would speak of things like feeling or tasting other people's magic. None of the other members of the family could do such a thing (though there was a couple of magic portraits in the Black Ancestral Home that claimed to be able to 'feel' or 'sense' magic, but who could believe a portrait? They probably just wanted attention.)_

"_Their magic feels like the Dark Lords. So sweet," Bellatrix crooned. "Sweet babies."_

_Narcissa sighed. She looked away from Bellatrix and down to the two twins. They were frighteningly gaunt, and the sores around the boy's neck made her wince._

"_Let's get you fed and cleaned up, shall we?" Narcissa said gently. Though the twins remained tense, Bellatrix seemed to relax. _

"_Thank you, Cissy."_

To Narcissa, it was strange to think that that had been nearly two years ago. Back then, the twins had looked like the most pitiful waifs she had ever seen. Both of them had had hollow cheeks, short statures, and haunted green eyes. Their skin had been raw and torn in places, and they seemed to be covered by a layer of grime.

Harry, of course, had his distinctive lightning-bolt scar, and was rather worse for wear from having taken more severe abuse from his former guardians. Bruises, welts, cuts, broken bones - no part of his body seemed unmarked. Alarmingly, he had even snarled at her once or twice in those early days - especially if she came anywhere near Holly - but that eventually ceased when he learned that she meant neither of them any harm. Though they were known collectively as the Twins-Who-Lived, Harry's scar was considered to be iconic - after all, as the legend goes, the Dark Lord had tried to kill the twins with a killing-curse, and the scar was where it rebounded. However, to Narcissa's surprise, Holly had a scar as well, that looked like a "V" had been tipped almost upside-down. Her scar was right in her hair-line, all but invisible when her hair was down. Back then, Narcissa (who had some rudimentary healing abilities) had attempted to heal both the lightning-bolt and the tilted-V scar. But nothing she did would work, and she had a strong suspicion that both scars were cursed.

"You should have told me about the ritual," Narcissa said to her sister, who had her eyes closed, and a twin leaning against her on each side upon the sofa.

Bellatrix lifted her eyelids, and gave her prim-looking sister a slow smile. "You would have stopped me, Cissy."

"It was a dangerous ritual!" Narcissa hissed. "You could have died! Or something could have happened to the twins! It isn't even legally binding - not since the late 1800s at least. Or what if Draco had walked in on you? He could have been hurt!"

"Dwaco is with his tutor, just like he is every day. What matters is that it is done. They are pure now, and they are _mine_."

Unable to help herself, Narcissa gave her sister a small smile. "You always were a wild one, Bella. No one could control you." She was silent for a moment. "What will you call them?"

Bellatrix's expression became distant. "Black. For now, Harry and Holly Black."

"For now?"

"You should know me better by now," Bellatrix purred, teasingly. "Have you forgotten what I've told you? My plan was to find the twins first. And I did! I did find them, the sweet babies. The twins and then… the Dark Lord."

-o-

Late Summer 1985

As soon as Draco realized that Aunt Bella had brought home the Twins-Who-Lived, he was immediately fascinated. He had, of course, been made to swear to tell no one outside of the family that the twins were here, but it was an easy promise to make - especially when the company that Draco was permitted to keep was so limited. But added magical safeguards had been put in place, so that even if he wanted to speak of the Potter twins, he would not be able to. It was difficult to reconcile the image of those ragged, waifish wretches, with the heroic Defeaters-of-the-Dark-Lord in his mind, but nonetheless, he was certain that there was something wonderful about them. What else could explain Aunt Bella's complete change of heart towards them? Why else would she have brought them home, except that the twins must have had some sort of magic to cause someone like Aunt Bella to change her mind.

Draco did not get a chance to see the twins again until nearly three days after Aunt Bella brought them home. In his five-year-old mind (at the time), this made perfect sense. Whenever he had a new toy or present, he always wanted to hoard it to himself first, and not let anyone else touch it or see it. But that did not mean that he thought it was fair, and he certainly made his thoughts known to his mother and father.

"I want t' see them!" Draco cried to his mother. She had come to visit him in his nursery, where his tutor had been spending the morning teaching him how to hold a quill.

"Pay attention to your lessons, my dragon," his mother replied, but there was an amused sparkle in her eyes.

"I know how to hold a quill!" He threw the quill on the floor, crossing his arms petulantly. The tutor did not reprimand him (he wouldn't dare) and silently picked up the quill.

"It's best not to think of it now," his mother commanded, and though her voice was soft, there was a hard edge of steel beneath. Draco pouted, but did not argue. In the coming days, he realized that his mother had been the wrong person to ask. Really, it was Aunt Bella he should have spoken to.

He had finished his lessons for the day, and because Aunt Bella had been taking her meals in her room, it seemed as though he never saw her these days. But he knew which wing of the manor she resided in, and even if there hadn't been a reason to go there in the past, there was reason enough now.

Ignoring the numerous talking portraits on the walls that commented on his hair or clothes or bearing, he stubbornly trekked towards Aunt Bella's chambers. The wide double-doors to her room were close.

"Wiffim!" Draco called out in his high voice. The house-elf popped in front of him.

"What can Wiffim do for Master Draco?" the house-elf inquired, eager to serve his young master. The elf's large bat-like ears were perked up with enthusiasm, and there was a hopeful smile on his face.

"Wiffim, announce me to Aunt Bella!"

"Wiffim will do as Master Draco wishes." The house-elf popped out of existence, and less than a minute later, it was pulling open Aunt Bella's door from within, gesturing for Draco to enter.

"You are dismissed, Wiffim," Draco informed the elf, without a thanks. No one that he knew of ever thanked house-elves. It was simply not done.

"Draco!" Aunt Bella greeted, sounding almost surprised to see him. "What brings my darling nephew here?"

"H'lo Aunt Bella," Draco said politely (as he was taught), even though he could barely maintain eye-contact, and instead, searched the room, wondering where the twins were hiding. He spotted them peering at him, from the doorway that led to Aunt Bella's bedroom. By this time, they had been outfitted with a new wardrobe, and while they still looked malnourished, their long wizarding robes were as fine as his own. Their visible wounds had been (mostly) healed, and their colour had improved at least.

Catching his gaze, Aunt Bella turned to look at the doorway and spotted the twins. A slow smile crept onto Aunt Bella's face, and her eyelids dropped to half-mast.

"You've come to see my babies?" She purred. Draco looked up at his aunt, and tried not to flinch. His gaze was once again pulled towards the twins. Though they stood, half in shadows, there was something utterly compelling about them.

The boy, Harry, stood a little in front of the girl, Holly. One of his hands was balled into a tight fist (the other was holding on to Holly's), and his green eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light (though perhaps that was all in Draco's imagination, which was quite vivid.) There was something fearless about Harry, but it was a terrible sort of fearlessness - the fearlessness of someone who has seen the worse, and does not care anymore because they expect bad things to come, and refuse to flinch from it.

As for the girl, Holly, though she was half-guarded by Harry, she was no less compelling. Her eyes were equally as green, and her face was like a mirror of her brother's. Curiously, her free hand was also balled into a tight fist. But while Harry seemed to exude fearlessness, Holly exuded something else - threat mingled with an odd vulnerability. She looked as frail and delicate as a flower, but if she were a flower, she would have barbs filled with the most toxic of poisons. To attempt to crush her was to crush yourself.

Did the muggles who had been raising the Twins-Who-Lived see them this way? Did those disgusting muggles (Draco had not heard about the abuse of the twins - he simply assumed that muggles in general were disgusting) know who they were dealing with?

But what fascinated Draco most of all was seeing the two of them together. They were separate beings, but they felt like One, and in an odd way, it left an aching, uncomfortable feeling in Draco's chest, as though something used to be there (his heart?), and now it was gone. He had never encountered anything like it. Was it due to their magic? Aunt Bella spoke of feeling and tasting magic, and at times Draco wondered if he could feel it too, but his mother and father were convinced it was a fanciful notion, so Draco rarely spoke of it.

It entranced Draco to see the twins together. He felt a strange yearning and wondered: why didn't he have anyone in his life like that? He thought he had everything once - his parents never said 'no' to him for anything, so he had every toy he wished, and every pet he longed for, and any friend that might be worth knowing, and yet, now he was hurting because he had become aware of something he lacked. He was afraid to ask his parents for it, in part because he did not know the words, but also, he was afraid that this was one thing that they couldn't give him. He wanted the twins, but in what way, he did not know.

Feeling a prickling sting in his throat and eyes, Draco backed away. That one step, that single moment in which he faltered was enough to break whatever resolve he had, and he turned around, and fled, unable to endure the weight of those green eyes, and that world between them that he was sure he could never be a part of.

-o-

On his own, Draco tried to gain his bearings and shake off the experience. If he had been a bit older, he might have been able to convince himself that it was a flight of his imagination, but as it was, the whole thing had seemed too real, and he was upset. He scampered down the stairs (there was no one there to chastise him for acting without dignity), and dashed off to the orangery where his mother often liked to tend to her exotic, tropical plants.

As he entered the orangery, he was assailed by the fragrant air, and damp heat of the room. His mother was gently deadheading one of her singing vines, which hummed a few trilling soprano notes whenever her fingers caressed the leaves. She heard him enter and turned.

"Hello my dragon." His mother examined his woeful expression. "What's wrong?"

Peeling off her gloves, and using her wand to vanish away the wilted remains of the vine, she led Draco to one of the decorative wrought-iron benches and sat him down.

"Darling?"

Draco tried not to squirm and fuss. It was unbecoming behaviour, but he was only five, and as such, his self-control was limited. But how could he express what he wanted? How could he put the strange yearning he felt into words?

"Mother -" he began. "I wan' the twins."

She blinked, uncertain of how to respond. "You wish for the twins to be your friends?"

Was that what he wanted? Draco could not deny that he would have liked the friendship of the twins, but that did not seem like quite enough. Nonetheless, he did want them to be friends.

"Yes," he affirmed. "But -"

His mother waited patiently for him to continue.

"But more," he finished.

His mother scanned his face with her gentle but knowing eyes. A flicker of sadness crossed her face, but quickly vanished. She did not exactly know what Draco wanted, or what he felt, but she had a sense of it. When Draco had been younger, he had begged his parents for a sibling, longing for that deeper connection that occurs when people know one another their entire lives. Draco's mother sensed that what he wished for was something like that, and it hurt her terribly to know that she could not give it to him. She and Draco's father had tried to conceive another child, but they could not. The last thing she ever wanted was to cause her darling dragon any pain, and yet, she could not shelter him from the world (even if she was determined to try.)

How was she to respond to his request? (In truth, it was a demand, but Draco's mother mentally considered them to be requests.) Furthermore, did she really want for Draco to be close to the Twins-Who-Lived? While she certainly loved her sister, she also knew that Bella was playing a dangerous game. Bella had been caught and imprisoned once before - what would become of her (and the twins) if she were to be imprisoned again? If Draco befriended them, would they just be ripped away from him? Her thoughts felt treacherous, but what mattered most was protecting her darling Dragon.

And yet, how could she ever say no to him? He deserved to have the whole world laid at his feet. "They will love you," Draco's mother said, with the certainty that only a mother (blinded by love) could have. "I'm sure of it."

-o-

Knowing that the twins would be needing an education, Draco had assumed that the twins might share his tutor, and while Draco did not love to share, he was willing to do so for the twins. Plus, there was nothing particularly exciting about a tutor. Furthermore, his parents had hired the very best tutor, and what's more, the man was discreet, and never discussed the family's business. In truth, the tutor had actually taken a magical Unbreakable Vow (facing the consequence of death) if he ever gossiped about the family, but Draco did not know that.

However, to the entire family's surprise, the twins were not tutored by Draco's tutor. Aunt Bella did not even choose to hire a new tutor. Instead, Aunt Bella declared that she would teach the twins everything they needed to know, all by herself. It was highly irregular.

This meant that the twins spent most of their time in Aunt Bella's wing of the manor, and the only time he ever saw them was in the late afternoon, when their lessons were over. And yet, for the first long while, the twins rarely, if ever, ventured out of Aunt Bella's chambers.

Draco's curiosity towards the twins never lessened, and instead, only grew. For a boy who was given everything on a (goblin forged) silver platter, patience was not his strong suit.

So, a (long) week after Draco's first visit to Aunt Bella's chambers, he ventured up to her wing, and once again called for Wiffim to provide him entry.

"Back so soon, widdle Dwaco?" Aunt Bella cooed when she saw him again.

"I'm not liddle!" Draco protested, his cheeks flushed. "Mother says tha' I am growing very well." And why would Aunt Bella say it had been soon? His last visit was the previous week. That was ages ago!

Aunt Bella cackled with amusement. "What do you want, little dragon?"

Draco shifted uneasily. He did not like how Aunt Bella had said 'dragon.' Her words lacked the warm, loving affection of his mother. Since the twins had arrived, Aunt Bella no longer seemed so obsessed with him - in fact, she seemed to have all but forgotten his presence. Draco would have been relieved, but this new Aunt Bella was just as unsettling as the old Aunt Bella. Draco peeled his eyes away from her, and gazed towards the doorway that led to her bedroom, but this time, the twins weren't there.

"Looking for something, little dragon?"

Draco plucked up his courage. "I wan' t' play with the twins."

Aunt Bella's expression was speculative. "Do you? Widdle Dwaco wants to pway?" Aunt Bella chortled, and walked up to him, lifting his chin with her long, bony fingers. "What if the twins don't want to play with you?"

Draco sucked in a deep breath, shocked to the core by the very notion. Was it true? Did the twins not even want his company? He tried to force his lower lip to stop trembling. He would not cry in front of Aunt Bella. He would Not!

Aunt Bella stroked his lower lip with her fingers. "Cissy is too soft on you, little dragon. It makes you weak. But my babies could use the presence of pure-blood company, to wipe the stain of their past memories from existence." Aunt Bella looked towards another doorway that led to another set of rooms - an office, perhaps? Draco was not intimately knowledgeable about Aunt Bella's rooms. In a sing-sing voice, Aunt Bella called out: "Harry! Holly! You have company!"

The twins appeared at the doorway holding hands, their body-language almost just as guarded as the first time he saw them. They flicked a quick glance at Draco before looking up at Aunt Bella.

"Mama?" Holly questioned, in a high, sweet voice.

Aunt Bella smiled at them indulgently, in a way that she never looked at Draco. "Babies, I want you to play with Draco here. You may play on the north lawn." Aunt Bella's windows overlooked the north lawn.

Harry and Holly shared a look. They had never yet explored the grounds at Malfoy manor, and through the magic that flowed between them, they felt each other's uncertainty and fear.

"Babies," Aunt Bella said to them, drawing their attention. "I've told you before, you don't need to hold yourselves back. Your magic is there to help. You will never be punished for protecting yourselves. Not by me. Not here."

Draco had no idea what Aunt Bella was talking about, but the twins seemed to understand her, because they relaxed, and their curious green eyes returned to him. Draco felt both flustered but also glad to have their attention.

"Well?" Aunt Bella demanded, shattering the moment. "Oh, wait - yes, we must observe protocols, mustn't we? Draco, may I introduce Harry and Holly of the House of Potter. Holly and Harry, may I introduce Draco, heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy."

The twins had venture forward. Harry and Draco shook hands, like miniature adults, while Draco kissed the back of Holly's hand, has he had been taught. Draco found himself wondering if they had been taught their manners by the muggles or by Aunt Bella. Surely, this was the work of Aunt Bella. She may have had a reputation for being wild, but she was a pure-blood through and through.

-o-

Harry and Holly followed Draco out of Bellatrix's chambers and along the stately corridors. They were both still in awe of the magical world around them, and while Bellatrix found it amusing at times, she also snapped that it was uncouth to stare. They would have tried to obey Bellatrix's teachings, even if she wasn't here to watch them (as far as they knew, but with magic, who could be sure?) But they had been given an opportunity to gawk and examine their surroundings, and they wanted to take it. From the moving flowery patterns of the carpeting, to the chattering portraits, to the funny-looking house-elves, there was a great deal to look at.

"Ah, so these art the two yond ev'ryone is discussing!" A blond man in a wide white ruff exclaimed. It was one of the portraits, framed in gilded gold. "Cometh h're and allowth me has't a behold at thee."

Harry and Holly shared a look that said: 'Did you understand any of that?' They paused in their steps and peered at the portrait. The blond man had a regal mustache and beard, and a vivid green and silver-embroidered jerkin. At his side was a sword in a scabbard.

Noticing the twins that stopped, Draco looked back to see what had caught their attention. "Oh, don' pay atten'tn to him. No one understands him." By 'no one' Draco meant himself and his playmates.

"How dareth thee, rapscallion! Didn'st thy parents teach thee any mann'rs?"

"Oh hush, Ampelius," a woman from a nearby portrait scolded. "Don't think we don't know the stories of what you got up to in your youth. Weren't you the one who besmirched the Malfoy name when you had too much mead and married that mule?"

A giggle escaped Harry and Holly's lips, and Draco gave the woman a pained look for airing the Malfoy's dirty laundry.

"Lady Moulari is not a mule! 'T wast a Transfiguration accident!" Ampelius exclaimed indignantly, referring to the magic that could change one object (or living being) into another.

The woman in the portrait smirked. "Really? I couldn't tell the difference."

"Come on," Draco said, tugging at the sleeves of the twins robes. The last thing he wanted to do was listen to the portraits bickering again (which they seemed to do a lot when they got bored - in other words, all the time.)

Draco took them down the stairs (he did not scamper this time - he did not know the twins well enough to be that comfortable yet), through a drawing room, and out a set of French doors that led to the north lawn.

Though Draco had a propensity towards chattering, his earlier interaction with Aunt Bella left him slightly subdued. But the brilliant blue of the sky, and the verdant greenery caused the shadows of his dark mood to dissipate.

"How're you likin' the manor?" Draco asked. The question was a mix of curiosity, but also pride in the stately grandeur of his home, which had impressed all his former playmates.

"It's -" Harry seemed to struggle to find the words. Due to the twins upbringing, their language skills were not as strong as Draco's quite yet, "-amathing." Harry gave Draco a hesitant smile, a slight lisp in his young voice that he had not yet grown out of. The smile was bewildering but also pleasing to Draco. The intense impression of fearlessness was gone, and now, Harry almost seemed like an ordinary boy, though he was still holding Holly's hand.

"We didn' even know 'bout magic 'til mama - 'till mama came" Holly admitted shyly.

"So you really did grow up with muggles!" Draco burst out. "What were they like? Are muggles really as awful as ev'ryone says?"

Harry and Holly shared a look, their link flowing with a reassuring warmth that reminded them that magic was, in fact, real and that they would never have to worry about those muggles again (or so Bellatrix had claimed.)

"They were -" Holly's brow knit as she tried to find the right word, "- terr'ble." As she considered those muggles, she felt that familiar buzzing feeling (of magic) within her - a darkness that seemed to coil from her center, moving outwards like undulating electric eels, ready to lash out at anything that would hurt Harry. She would never let anyone hurt Harry if she could help it.

"What did they do?" Draco couldn't help his curiosity. He had lived an incredibly sheltered life, and while he could understand the idea of being cursed (or hit, or beaten), such things were still only just 'ideas.' To Draco, the worst pain he had ever experienced was the one time he had fallen off his training broom when he was attempting to fly, and broke his wrist (which was immediately healed by his mother with magic.)

Curiously Harry growled, but Holly squeezed his hand and he stopped. If Draco found it odd, he did not comment, but patiently waited for their reply.

It was in Harry's nature to hide his hurts, except to Holly, who could understand without being told. He preferred to brush aside the horrible things that the muggles had inflicted on him, not liking any reminders that singled him out as being weird or being a freak. Though it was even worse if anyone called Holly a freak. He would tear someone apart with his teeth if they hurt Holly. "They didn't always feed us much, an' - an' they yelled a lot," he eventually told Draco, a bit reluctantly.

Holly narrowed her green eyes. "An' tied you up, an' hit you," she spat out.

"Tied you up!" Draco gasped. "The muggles did that?"

Harry shrugged again. It was a gesture that Bellatrix did not particularly like, but over the years, she would never truly be able to break him of the careless gesture. "I don't wanna talk 'bout it."

Draco pouted. He was used to having his ways. But something within him warned that he should be careful with the twins if he wanted them to like him (and he really, really did want to be liked.)

"Let's play a game!" Draco suggested brightly.

"What game?" Harry asked.

Draco furrowed his brow in thought. "I know! We can play catch the snitch. It's even more fun with a broom, but I only have one."

"Wha's a snitch?" Holly asked.

"I'll show you!" Draco dashed off around the side of the house, and the twins trailed after him at a more sedate pace, cautiously examining their surroundings for threats and also curious about the various decorative magical plants that grew in lush profusion. Along the edges of the lawn were topiary animals that moved, such as the rearing horse, and the lion shaking out it's leafy mane. There were also daffodil-like flowers along the house that emitted sparkling puffs that made the air shimmer, and hydrangeas whose fragrance evoked funny memories that made the twins giggle.

Draco soon returned with a small golden ball. Though he did not tell them much of the details of how the snitch worked, it was set to remain close to the ground, and fly at a fairly sedate pace (compared to a regular golden snitch.) As Draco tossed the ball in the air, its delicate wings unfurled, and it zipped about, causing Holly and Harry to laugh in delight.

"Las' one to catch it's a horklump!" Draco called out, as he raced after the snitch, followed by a laughing Harry and Holly.

-o-

The following months at the manor saw a great improvement in the twin's health. The pair of them remained close to Bellatrix, soaking in her attention and lessons like eager little plants. Bellatrix wasn't exactly kind (not that the twins had a good idea of what kindness was), and her behaviour was often erratic and unpredictable. And yet, she was also affectionate in her own way (which is to say, she was overly tactile), but the twins, starved for physical affection, craved her cuddles and coos and praise. She was their saviour. The twins loved each other with a bond that was infinitely deep, but somehow, their feelings for Bellatrix became woven into the fabric of their lives, and there was _nothing_ they wouldn't do for their beloved mama, or so they told themselves.

Narcissa was pleased to learn that the twins both had rather sweet natures, and Lucius was pleased to learn that Bellatrix had not somehow warped their sweet natures into something a little more like herself. Draco had grown closer to the twins than he had to any of his other childhood playmates and his life was one of vivid and sharp happiness, even if he still sometimes felt that little 'something' that was missing. That something 'more.' But it was easy enough to put out of his mind when he could play with the twins, day after day, and know that he was their best friend, in all the world. He and no one else.

In their time at the manor, the twins had never asked about what became of their abusive muggle relatives. Of course, they were there when Bellatrix did the horrific things she had done to them, with all manner of creative and disturbing Dark spells. However, the twins never asked about the aftermath - after all, it was hardly the sort of thing they would consider.

The fact of the matter was, Bellatrix was irresponsible. She had always been reckless and irresponsible, because she was born a Black, and Blacks were rich and powerful. That meant that they had enough golden Galleons, and powerful connections, that all problems could be swept under the rug (except for the nasty business of Azkaban, but that was the past and did not bear thinking of.) And because Bellatrix was irresponsible, the matter of Harry and Holly's muggle relations was actually taken care of by Lucius Malfoy. It was the respectable Lucius Malfoy who used his power and his connections to take care of the chaotic mess of smashed objects and burned or broken walls. It was Lucius Malfoy and his connections who dealt with the gruesome bodies. And not only that but he had to use the _Obliviate_ spell to change the memories of the muggles who had known the muggles. Now, what they believed was that Harry and Holly's relatives had up and moved away to America. The muggle house and muggle car were sold. The muggle assets in their bank account were taken care of, and a letter of resignation sent to their muggle boss. Identities were erased and created. And as far as anyone was aware, Harry and Holly's relatives were as pleased as could be in their new home, far, far away in America where no one would be able to find them.

As the twin's physical and mental health improved, they explored more and more of the manor, but they still preferred to stay as close to Bellatrix as possible. Bellatrix's lessons were a mix of theoretical and practical, and while she was quite thorough, she was also rather unconventional. She did not always take the twin's young ages into consideration during their lectures, sometimes focusing on basics, and other times, rambling about complex topics. Knowing her sister's nature, Narcissa had set aside some of the books that Draco's tutor had used to teach him. If Bellatrix had appreciated the gesture, she had never spoken of it, but Narcissa did notice Bellatrix referencing the books more than once. Regardless of what she taught, the twins listened carefully, attempting to absorb all that they could.

She spent all of the morning and early afternoons teaching them. Her late afternoons and evenings were spent in the library, combing the books and tomes for hints that might tell her where to begin her search for her beloved Dark Lord. It was a horribly slow process, made worse by Bellatrix's impatience. She would scan through tomes, skipping details, and failing to make certain connections, which meant that at some later point, she would have to re-read material to properly absorb it. She was a clever and dedicated witch, but she had not always been the best of scholars. But passion drove her, and because she was passionate about the Dark Lord, she could push herself to be something that she naturally was not.

At the moment, the twins were with Bellatrix in her sitting room. She was half-reclining across her sofa, in a rather languorous mood, and the twins shared the space on her lap, listening to the vibrations of her chest as she gave them their lessons.

"We'll start on some basic arithmetic today, my babies," Bellatrix randomly decided, as she stroked their hair. "You already know your numbers up to -"

"A hundred, mama," Holly informed her.

Bellatrix hummed, which made the twin's ears tickle and they giggled. "A hundred. How clever you two are." The twins felt a rush of warmth at the praise.

"Yes, we'll start on some arithmetic. You can use your fingers. Here, I'll show you." Bellatrix held out her hands, so that they could see. "One plus one is two. Do you see?"

The twins nodded. "Numbers are abstract, but they also apply to real things. I'll give you an example. If you kill one muggle. And then you kill another one muggle, then how many muggles have you killed?"

"Two muggles?" Harry and Holly answered, after thinking about it for a moment.

"Very good! Now look at my fingers again. If I kill one muggle, and then I kill another two muggles, how many muggles have I killed?"

The twins looked at the three fingers she held up, counting them. "Three! Three muggles!"

Bellatrix grinned, hugging them tightly against her. "There, you're catching on!" It was rather fortunate that their lesson this day had actually been age appropriate, but while the twins might not do quite as well in many of their other lessons, Bellatrix was surprisingly not a cruel tutor. If anything, Bellatrix sometimes seemed to forget the presence of the twins if she started reading to them about complex magical theories, or the intricacies of how the movement of the stars affected potion brews. It was the twin's occasional questions that would bring her back to the present moment, until she began drifting off as she read to them once again.

As much as the twins enjoyed their lessons with Bellatrix, they rarely ever discussed it in detail with Draco. Draco, of course, prattled on and on about his own lessons, and they knew that they were learning similar things - penmanship, maths, English, Latin, flora and fauna, geography, history, comportment, magical theory and pure-blood genealogy. But while the twins had come to adore Draco, their relationship with Bellatrix was special. There was always the sense that Bellatrix was planning something great - something grand, and Bellatrix had a tendency to act as if the twins were the only ones who could understand.

And as for what that something grand was - why, it was the return of the Dark Lord.

"My dear Cissy, and that Lucius doubt me," Bellatrix had said to them, in a woeful voice, as they lay together in Bellatrix's giant four-poster bed, readying for sleep. "But I know better. We'll find him, won't we babies? He'll be so pleased with me. And I believe he'll be pleased with you too, but I dare not presume. That's why you have to be good for me, babies. You have to listen to everything I teach you, and if you do, the rewards will be great -" and then Bellatrix would drift off into one of her faraway dreamy looks, her eyelids lowered, and a smile tugging at her thin lips. The twins were determined to see Bellatrix's dream come true. And if Auntie Cissy and Uncle Lucius did not understand, they perhaps Draco would not as well, and so, they did not speak of it.

-o-

Early Spring 1987

By the time Bellatrix had found a lead that might enable her to find her beloved Lord Voldemort, the twins had nearly been at the Malfoy manor for nearly two years, and Bellatrix deemed that their health was good enough to perform the Dark blood adoption ritual. She spoke of the ritual to only the twins, and of course, the twins assented to the idea (not that Bellatrix had actually asked their opinion.)

"We need to purify your blood, and make you my own," Bellatrix had informed them, as she attempted to smooth out their unruly hair with the wave of her magic wand. "Now that you are well enough, we need to remove that filthy taint from within you. I know it's not your fault, my babies, that your birth mother was a dirty mudblood, but soon it will no longer matter. The ritual will require a great deal of blood, and it will be quite painful. I've used the owl-post to order all the ingredients for the potion so we can perform the ritual in a sennight."

Bellatrix never told them that their lives would be at risk. But even if she had told them, and even if she had given them a choice, they would have agreed, because Bellatrix was their mama, and their saviour, and they _loved_ her, so very much.

Draco had only found out about the ritual because the twins had to take the afternoon and evening off to rest and recover. He was rather put out, for he had grown accustomed to playing with them every day, but he was permitted to visit them in Bellatrix's sitting room, and they spent their time playing magic marbles (which, unlike ordinary marbles, was played in a three dimensional sphere since the marbles floated in the air, and what's more, after the game was won, the marbles turned into candy and could be eaten. Plus, the better the score, the tastier the marble.)

It took three days until the twins were returned to full health. That was when Bellatrix announced that they would be leaving. Most of Bellatrix's announcements were made only to the twins (or sometimes to Narcissa) but this time, the entire family had been seated at the large polished dining table when Bellatrix told them the news.

"We're leaving tomorrow," Bellatrix had declared, interrupting Lucius Malfoy as he was explaining some new legislation that was being written up. A line appeared between Lucius's brow at the interruption, but he was accustomed to Bellatrix's ill-manners. Of course, Bellatrix's comportment was beautiful if there was someone she wished to impress (and none could be more charming and graceful than Bellatrix at a dinner party or Ministry function), but Bellatrix did not care about impressing Lucius Malfoy.

"Leaving for where, Bella?" Narcissa asked, her fork hovering halfway between her plate her plate and her mouth. Narcissa was probably thinking that Bellatrix wanted to go out to the shops - perhaps a jaunt in Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley.

"Eastern Germany," Bellatrix replied, after taking a sip of elf-made wine. The twins looked at her curiously. From their geography lessons, they knew that Eastern Germany was rather far away. But they did not question her - not at the dinner table. There would be time for questions before bed.

Narcissa blinked, surprised. "Eastern Germany?" she echoed. "Why, whatever for?"

"How long are you going for?" Draco demanded.

"Don't interrupt, dragon, it's rude," Narcissa corrected automatically, before looking back at her sister, expectant.

"I'm going to find the Crystal Caves," Bellatrix explained. "There is a spell I have found that uses crystal as a conduit for communication. The larger the mass or masses of Crystals, the greater the distance and clarity of communication."

"This - this is about finding the Dark Lord?" There was a worried expression in Narcissa's eyes.

"Of course!" Bellatrix scoffed. "What else what it be about, Cissy? It has been too long. Only think of how long he has been waiting for someone determined enough - someone _loyal _enough to find him. I have been here too long, and though it has been for a good cause, I need to find him _soon_." The yearning in Bellatrix's voice made both Narcissa and Lucius uncomfortable.

"We have been loyal to the Dark Lord," Lucius said darkly.

Bellatrix sneered in disbelief.

"You know where this Crystal Cave is?" Narcissa questioned, trying to break the tension that had settled upon the dining room.

"I know it's near some muggle mines, but there is a magical cave nearby, of greater power and beauty."

"You don't know where the cave is." Narcissa's voice was flat. Though she was as poised as ever, those that knew her best could see the tight tension in the straight line of her spine, and around her eyes.

Bellatrix took a lazy sip of wine. "I'll find it."

"Will you be taking the twins with you?" Lucius asked, not that he was particularly concerned, but it was annoying to be left out of the conversation (even if he didn't particularly like communicating with Bellatrix.)

"Of course."

"Bella!" Narcissa gasped. "What of the danger?"

Bellatrix's gaze slid over to where the twins sat, and a slow smile bloomed across her face. She glanced back at Narcissa. "What of it?"

Narcissa's lips thinned. "They can stay here."

As nonchalant as ever, Bellatrix said: "No. My babies will be coming with me. They are too important." Though her posture was relaxed, there was a hard look in Bellatrix's eyes now. There would be no arguing the matter.

"Aunt Bella?" Draco asked, his voice small.

Bellatrix peered towards him. "Yes, little dragon?"

"How long will you be gone?"

Bellatrix smiled at him, but it was a cruel smile - the smile of a shark that has scented blood, and in this case, the blood was Draco's weakness for her twins. "As long as it takes to find the Dark Lord."

"How long will that be?" Draco persisted.

"Long enough."

-o-

With the aid of magic, packing was incredibly quick and easy. And with the aid of house-elves, one did not even have to use their own magic to pack. The Malfoys had a few older trunks stored away in the attic, charmed with magical space, so that one could store enough to fill the contents of a house within the small space. Perhaps not a large house, like the Malfoy manor, but a small house. The trunks also had feather-light charms, so that the trunks were no burden, and on top of that, the trunks were shrunk, so that they could be tucked neatly away into one of Bellatrix's pockets.

Bellatrix had packed all that she owned, as well as all of the twins possessions. She had 'borrowed' some of the Malfoy books as well, including the book that explained the use of crystals as communication conduits.

She had not bothered with the twin's lessons that day, but instead, permitted them to spend the morning with Draco so that they could say good-bye. Draco's own lessons were cancelled, but Draco took no joy in the matter.

Draco was surprisingly difficult for the twins to find. He wasn't in his chambers or nursery (which was now called his play room). He wasn't in the orangery or kitchen or anywhere else in the house. In the end, the twins found him by the west garden, sitting in front of the pond and watching the magical fish with flame-like fins with a pensive expression. His legs were drawn up against him, and he rested his chin upon his knees. The twins, who stayed close enough that their arms were touching, sat down next to him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Draco asked, his voice small. It was clear that he was hurting.

"We didn't know," Holly answered, still dazed about what was happening.

"She didn't tell us 'til yesterday - the same time she told you," Harry explained.

"But I don't want you to go," Draco repined. The whole thing had come as such a blow - just as he had gotten accustomed to seeing Harry and Holly every day - to thinking that they might be here indefinitely.

"It won't be forev'r," Holly tried to reassure him, though the words felt empty.

"Only 'til we find the Dark Lord," Harry added, unhelpfully.

The twins may have thought their words were reassuring but instead, it only hurt Draco more. While he did not want them to leave, they didn't claim that they wanted to stay. Didn't they like him enough to want to stay here with him? Or perhaps they did not care about him with the same intensity as he cared for them. Alarmed, Draco shoved the thought aside.

A part of him wanted to spirit them away - there was a grove a little further along the western garden with a bit of magical space. When one entered the space, no one could see or find them, unless they were aware of the very specific entrance to that space. Perhaps if he took the twins there, they would not have to leave.

"Do you want to leave?" Draco asked. He dreaded the answer, but he felt that he needed to know. The question may have sounded straight-forward, but it wasn't, for what Draco was really asking was: do you want to leave _me_?

The twins shared a look, before turning their gaze back to Draco. "We want to go where mama goes," Holly answered honestly. Harry nodded.

The answer wasn't quite what Draco wanted to hear, and he felt an angry tight heat in his chest from his sense of betrayal. His throat felt thick, and his eyes stung, but he refused to cry over this. It wasn't as though the twins looked like they were about to cry (though both of them were miserable in their own ways.)

"Maybe you can come with us," Harry suggested. It wasn't as though any of them had a sense of what going to East Germany would entail. And having lived amidst magic for nearly two years, it seemed like a valid possibility.

"Yeah!" Holly chirped, straightening up and filled with enthusiasm over the idea. "Ask your mother and father if you can come."

Draco looked up, feeling a small sliver of hope. "You want me to come with you?"

"Of course," Harry replied, matter-of-factly, as Holly said: "Yes."

Draco beamed. "All right. I'll ask." It wasn't as though his parents had ever refused him before (although he mentally disregarded all those times his father had not allowed him to handle or touch something - usually certain Dark Artifacts that he kept in the house.) "Come on."

Draco and the twins stood, and rushed towards the house. Once they were inside, they kept to a more sedate pace - it would have been unseemly to be dashing about like little hellions. At this time of day, Narcissa was often at the orangery, but this time she wasn't there. They eventually found her in Bellatrix's chambers, speaking to her sister. The doors to the room had been left open, and as the three children peeked into the room, the sisters stop talking and looked towards them. Narcissa's quickly schooled her face into her usual cool expression, while Bellatrix was smirking.

"Mother?" Draco said, a bit more hesitantly than usual, as he darted an uneasy glance towards Bellatrix. Draco had always been unsettled by Bellatrix's presence, but ever since she had brought home the twins two years ago, she made him more uneasy than ever. He could not help feeling as though she disapproved of him, though Draco couldn't make sense of it - after all, his parents were terribly proud of him.

"Yes, dragon?"

Draco and the twins entered the room, stopping before the two adults on the sofa. Jutting his chin forward stubbornly, Draco gathered his courage. He refused to let his Aunt Bellatrix's presence cow him; not when it came to something this important.

"I want to go to Germany with the twins."

Narcissa tensed imperceptibly. "Dragon," she began, but Draco seemed to have sense the refusal in her tone of voice.

"I want to go!" He insisted. Bellatrix, who was watching the exchange, had broken into a wide grin of cruel amusement. The twins shifted on their feet uneasily. As much as they adored their mama, it wasn't usually a good sign when she wore that expression.

"No," Narcissa answered, firmly. Draco's eyes widened in shock. Had his mother really just refused him? Even when she could not give him something he wanted, she usually tried to placate him with something else (and often something better). But Narcissa was already tense from her earlier conversation with her impulsive sister. It had made her more abrupt than she usually would be.

Upon seeing Draco's expression, her demeanour softened. "Dragon," she said, sounding placating, "We can all go on holiday together some other time."

Draco's lips formed a pout. "I don't want to go on holiday some other time! I want to go with the twins."

"You're not going to get what you want this time, little dragon" Bellatrix taunted in a sing-sing voice.

"Bella!" Narcissa burst out in frustration. Her sister always did have a way of getting under one's skin. She took a deep breath, and her mask of calmness returned. "Bella, please. Stay out of this."

But Draco was already upset, and Bellatrix's outburst had not helped.

"I _will_ get what I want!" Draco cried out, not wanting to let his Aunt's words needle him as much as they did. "I will!"

Bellatrix just smirked, while Narcissa looked tense. Feeling the need to get away from Bellatrix's rather toxic influence, Narcissa stood and with a touch on Draco's shoulder, she gestured that he should follow her into the corridor outside of Bellatrix's rooms. Obediently, Draco allowed himself to be led away. Narcissa shut the doors behind them, leaving the twins with Bellatrix.

Bellatrix's heavy-lidded eyes rested upon the twins, a smile still pulling at her lips. "You two have spoken to Draco?"

Uncertain of what she meant, the twins nodded. "Yes, mama."

Bellatrix stood. "Excellent. Since we are all packed up, it's best that we get going, before Cissy tries to argue me out of it again."

The twins gasped. "We haven't said goodbye to Draco!" Harry exclaimed.

"He'll be so mad if we leave without telling him," Holly added mournfully.

Bellatrix only grinned. "That spoiled widdle baby will be mad either way. Cissy won't let him leave, and I hardly want to spend my time coddling the widdle dwagon."

Harry and Holly pursed their lips, wearing matching expressions of unhappiness. They loved their mama, but they didn't like it when she talked about Draco that way.

"Draco isn't a baby," Harry defended stubbornly. Neither Harry nor Holly minded when their mama called them babies because it was said with affection, but when she called Draco a baby, it was meant cruelly.

Bellatrix shrugged indifferently. "Draco isn't special like you two are."

The words confused them, making them feel both warm with pride, but also sad for Draco.

"Come along my babies," Bellatrix ordered. "We've a long day of travel ahead." Wrapping a pair of cloaks around each of their shoulders, she patted her pocket to assure herself that the trunk was still there, and then pulled the twins against her. With a loud cracking noise, the three of them instantly vanished from the room.

-o-

Bellatrix and the twins arrived at Eastern Germany using a series of apparition jumps over the course of a long, draining day. Apparition itself was an unpleasant experience - it might have been a mode of instant magical transportation, popping from location to location, but there was nothing enjoyable about feeling as though one were pressed from all sides with iron bands, pressed into yourself so that you were crushed, and then suddenly you weren't.

The twins were just as magically exhausted as Bellatrix. They could not perform apparition itself, but Bellatrix was extremely talented at Dark Magic, and because she and the twins were now linked by blood, she had been able to siphon off their magic, and use it for her own needs. It was not the same as the way the twins shared their magic - that was something natural, and powerful and _right_ between them. When the twins shared magic, it was effortless, feeling no different from using their own magic. When Bellatrix used their magic, it felt like she had pulpy orange juice in her veins instead of blood - it was simply foreign and strange (and yet, rather sweet).

Bellatrix and the twin's final destination was a small wizarding village known as Mohnburg nestled in the mountains. While a wizarding community within a city may have provided better accommodations and more resources and information, Bellatrix was still a fugitive, and had no desire to be caught and returned to Azkaban. When she had first escaped, a years ago, it had been easy to be reckless and indifferent to her safety. But now, with her babies in her care, and a lead that might take her to her beloved Dark Lord, she did not dare to take the same risks as she once did.

The village of Mohnburg had cobblestone streets, and brightly coloured buildings, three to four stories tall, that were smooshed side-by-side. Poppies, alpine rose, and other wildflowers grew in profusion, adding a lovely fragrance to the air. It was charmingly whimsical, with a bakery that produced the most fragrant smelling bread, a quaint bookstore, a robe shop, an owl-post office, several stores that sold used antiques and artifacts, and cheerful apothecary that sold all manner of potions and potion supplies. There was also a stately building that looked a bit like a medieval keep, but turned out to be a branch of Gringotts wizarding bank, run by goblins.

Bellatrix did not bother to use the bank - she kept all her galleons close at hand in a pretty mokeskin handbag that was charmed to be close to bottomless (and light-weight) so that she could nearly fit the contents of her entire Gringotts vault in there, if she had wanted to. Feeling depleted, the plan was to find a nourishing hot meal and a room at an inn where they could sleep their achiness (and in the twin's case, their sadness) away.

Because Bellatrix and the twins spoke only English (and some Latin), they had to make use of a translating charm to understand the natives. The charm was far from perfect - at best, it gave them a grasp of traveller's basics - things such as asking about costs, or directions or bathrooms. But it had the added side-effect of making new languages easier to learn, so Bellatrix had cast the charm on herself and the twins as well. As long as they kept their language simple, they would be able to get by.

With the aid of the language charm, and the benefit of having a great deal of galleons, Bellatrix was able to easily procure both food and a cozy room to stay in (with homey patchwork quilts, and brightly coloured calico curtains.) Admittedly, Bellatrix wasn't at all charmed by their little room in the inn, but the twins liked it, even if it was nothing at all like Bellatrix's luxurious room at the manor. There was much that needed to be done here at Mohnburg, but it would be better to do so when one had the energy and sharpness of mind that came about after a good sleep.

Because the bed was rather small (anything would be small compared to Bellatrix's gigantic four-poster bed), and the twins were not accustomed to being separated from their mama, Bellatrix had to transfigure the bed in the inn into a much bigger bed (aided with the use of one of the arm chairs.)

Despite their exhaustion, it was a struggle for Harry and Holly to fall asleep that night. It wasn't that the bed was unfamiliar or that they felt too cramped. Considering that the twins had been forced to sleep together in a cupboard under the stairs when they lived with the muggles, pretty much anything else seemed spacious in comparison. The twins could tell that Bellatrix was still awake as well, though in her case, it seemed to be due to the discomfort of what she would call 'substandard' accommodations.

Understanding each other's need for reassurance, they reached out and linked hands. It was normal for twins to like to be together, but in Harry and Holly's case, the physical closeness was more important to them than most people. They may not have realized it explicitly at the time, but they had the ability to share and amplify one another's magic, and the sharing of magic itself created a link between them unlike any other. What they also did not fully realize was that when they were apart and not touching, their magic was closer to average levels, with their own individual strengths and weaknesses. However, because they made such an effort to remain close to one another, this detail had passed their notice.

This first night away from the manor, Harry and Holly were troubled because of the way that they had left Draco. They knew he would be hurt by their disappearance. They had a feeling that he would feel betrayed by their actions. Would he forgive them for what they had done? Though their penmanship and writing skills were still fairly rudimentary, they decided that they would write him, and hopefully, he would accept the gesture of goodwill. Though it helped to know that they had Bellatrix and each other, that did not mean that they wanted to lose Draco's friendship.

The following day, the twins had dark circles under their eyes from their poor sleep, and Bellatrix's mood was decidedly surly. While she had more energy after her sleep, it had not been a comfortable one. One would think that after Azkaban, Bellatrix would be less fussy about her beds, but to Bellatrix, luxury was 'normal' and her stay had Azkaban had been treated like more of a 'test' to prove her devotion to the Dark Lord.

The twins, though aching with the pain of missing Draco, were still felt a tentative interest in exploring Mohnburg. They had never been to a wizarding village before, and even in Britain, they had remained exclusively at the manor, and as such, had never seen the wonders of Diagon Alley, with its wonderful magical wares.

They wanted to ask Bellatrix about the sights, since she would surely know more about the wizarding villages than they did, but one look at Bellatrix's grimace was enough to convince the twins to leave Bellatrix alone.

"D'you reckon they'll sell brooms here?" Harry asked Holly (not that she would know, but it was fun to talk about tangible things, and not just feel feelings through their link.) Harry had tried Draco's training broom back at the manor, and had taken to flying with remarkable ease.

Bellatrix, who had overheard the comment, could not help but roll her eyes. Two years with Draco had appeared to instill him with that same obsession with flying. But Bellatrix made no comment. Instead, she waved her wand and uttered an incantation that took away the ache in her back from the horrible sleep she had suffered in that tiny bed.

"I'm sure they would," Holly replied, trying to envision such a thing. "I think I'd like t' see the owls though. The eagle owls at Malfoy manor were never very friendly. I should like an owl, I think."

The twins maintained their slightly strained light-hearted conversation, not uttering a single word about Draco. The fact was, they could sense their feelings about the whole matter through the link. To bring up their friend would be like a sharp slap to the face, reminding them of the terrible way that they had left him, and the possibility that he might not forgive their actions. It was a bit terrifying to think that they might have lost their first real friend.

"Come along then," Bellatrix beckoned, once the twins were dressed in their robes and ready to go. Her naturally haughty demeanour meant that the innkeepers easily fell into a deferential role, as Bellatrix paid them their galleons for a hot breakfast. They also answered her quickly and willingly as she asked them whether or not they knew the whereabouts of the mysterious Crystal Cave (though due to the translating charm, Bellatrix had to use some colourful descriptors and various hand gestures before the innkeeper could grasp her meaning.)

"We've heard of it, Madam" the dark-haired portly innkeeper admitted. "But we do not know the exact location. It is said to be extremely precise - you cannot stumble upon these particular caves by accident, I'm afraid."

"Who can I speak to who might know?" Bellatrix demanded. Her period of rest at Malfoy manor had helped her to recover much of her former beauty, and even with her imperious manner, the innkeeper all but fell over himself to answer her.

"If anyone would know it would be Old Aldo. He has lived in this village the longest, and has seen more than the others. He lives in the building at the very edge of the village to the north, but he spends much of his days at the cafe along the street, playing cards with his chums. I wish I could have offered more help to you."

Uninterested in sight-seeing (nor desiring to sate the curiosity of the twins), Bellatrix immediately headed to the village end, seeking out Old Aldo. Just as the innkeeper described, the old man was at a table at the cafe, cards kept closely to his chest. He had a liver-spotted bald head, covered with a cheerful black feathered hat, and more wrinkles than the twins had ever seen on a person. He was with three other old men (though not as old as Aldo), and their expressions ranged from friendly curiosity, to lecherous leers.

Wearing her pure-blood superiority like a mantle, she strode up to the table and stood before the rheumy-eyed scrutiny of the old men. Bellatrix smiled at them, but being who she was (without even trying), her smile was full of dark promise. She turned her hooded eyes towards the oldest looking man of the bunch, who watched with with something like amusement on his face.

"May I ask if I am speaking to Aldo? The innkeeper pointed me this way," Bellatrix explained, her tone of voice perfectly charming. The twins stood a bit behind her, watching the scene with curiosity.

"Indeed, I am Aldo," the old man replied, and as he smiled, even more wrinkles appeared on his face. "And you are?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

It was interesting, for the twins to witness Bellatrix acting in a way that one could describe as 'amiable.' She was beautiful and engaging, and while it was a mask, she wore it so well that one could not help but believe it to be genuine. In the time that the twins had known her, they had seen almost all of the faces that Bellatrix wore. They were accustomed to a woman who was often at the mercy of her own stormy moods, but this interaction only served to prove that Bellatrix could control herself, if she had the motivation to do so.

"How are you liking our ... village?" The low gritty voice of one of the old men broke into the twin's thoughts. It seemed that the translation charm did not pick up all the words, but the meaning was clear enough.

They peered at him, surprised at the attention. Before Bellatrix had found them, they had had a deep mistrust of strangers. Their muggle relatives had turned their neighbours against them, claiming that the twins had some sort of 'mental instability' that made them violent and dangerous, and so, even if they had been little more than toddlers, people saw them as odd and untrustworthy. But their time at Malfoy manor, under Bellatrix's tutelage and Narcissa's and Lucius's critical eyes, had given them a certain social grace.

"We have seen little of it, sir," Harry replied, with the smoothness of a pure-blood scion. It was so unlike his easy conversation with Holly earlier, but it would make their mama proud.

"What we have seen is beaut'ful so far," Holly added, with a smile that felt strained, but caused the older man's eyes to crinkle.

"What are you here for?" the old man asked conversationally.

The question caused Bellatrix to give Holly a light squeeze on the shoulder. It was a warning, that they weren't to reveal their business, but otherwise, Bellatrix did not cut into their conversation, and continued speaking to Old Aldo.

"Travelling with our mama," Holly answered politely.

"Both of you look very much like your mama," the old man replied. "She's very beautiful."

A curl of disgust tightened in the twin's belly when they saw the way the old man looked at their mama. They recognized that she was beautiful, and while the man's words were complimentary, the look he gave Bellatrix seemed somehow dirty.

"Where is your papa?" the old man questioned.

The twins had no idea how to answer that. They knew that they must have had a father, but now, all they had was Bellatrix. Sometimes, Bellatrix spoke of the Dark Lord as if they could all be a family together, but they could hardly claim that the Dark Lord was their 'papa.'

"Don't you have a papa?" the old man prodded.

It was extremely hard for Harry and Holly to maintain their polite and calm facade, and they could feel an inner tension, needling them. Harry's nails were digging into the palm of his hand, to keep him from snarling and growling for the man to leave them alone. Holly's magic twisted uneasily, and she just wanted the man to shut up. With that thought, the old man began coughing in loud, phlegmy hacks.

Holly blinked. Had she done that? She and Harry shared a look. They could feel their magic sparking in the air around them, and uncertainty and guilt tugged at their hearts. While the old man's behaviour had been intrusive and rude, they hadn't actually wanted to hurt him. All they wanted was to feel safe. The old man had stood up from the table and entered the cafe, looking for a drink of water, and they felt a rush of relief that he was not badly injured. Plus, they no longer had to endure the awkward small talk where they had to pretend to be something that they both were, and weren't.

Finally, Bellatrix had squeezed the last bit of information she could from Old Aldo, and they were saying their good-byes. Bellatrix took the twins by the hands, squeezing tight.

"Such beautiful magic," she murmured. "Such delicious Dark magic." Bellatrix often said such things whenever Holly's magic crackled loose. They did not question it - they could feel each other's magic after all, and they never considered how curious it was that Bellatrix could even _feel_ their magic. After all, they could not feel hers, or anyone else's magic - only each other's.

"Mama?"

"Shall we have a look around town, my babies?" Bellatrix crooned. The twin's magic always did seem to put Bellatrix in a good mood.

By Bellatrix's estimation, Mohnburg was terribly provincial, with little excitement, and a pitiful assortment of wares. But to Harry and Holly, it was one of the most magical places they had ever seen, comparable to Malfoy manor, even if it lacked the manor's lavish grandeur. They were enchanted by the owls at the post office, ranging from the tiny pygmy owls which would probably struggle to lift a sheet of parchment, to the sweet barn owls, to the stately great grey owls. The bakery also happened to sell a number of sweet confections, so the twins purchased some kitten-shaped marzipan that pranced about playfully, some pumpkin spice biscuits and some chocolate wands.

The bookstore was a bit disappointing - the selection of English or Latin books was quite limited, and at six, their reading abilities were still limited. The apothecary was fascinating. What was one supposed to do with chicken lips, or flying seahorses or dog tongues? And there were brains of every shape and size, floating in clear jars for who knows what purpose?

Bellatrix wasn't at all engaged in the shops until they ventured into the second antique shop, in a side street away from the main thoroughfare. While the first antique shop had been crowded with knickknacks in every corner, and was run by a smiling middle-aged blonde woman, the second antique shop was vastly different. There were much less objects here, and the store itself seemed to have a dim and musty quality, as though the candles were too few (or burning too low.)

It wasn't dirty - there weren't cobwebs or broken windows or other obvious signs of disrepair. It was simply something in the air, and though they should have been uncomfortable, the twins felt surprisingly at ease, curious about the strange things that were bought and sold.

As Bellatrix perused the glass cases near the back of the of the shop, she noticed a long box filled with used wands. Her eyes glinted with interest. She herself did not need a wand, but what of Harry and Holly? If they were in Britain, they would have to wait until they were eleven, but they weren't in Britain anymore, were they? Even if the wand did not perfectly suit the twins, it would still give them ample opportunity to practice magic. True, it would be dangerous to attempt magic at six - children's bodies were so much more sensitive, and so much more likely to be damaged, and yet, Bellatrix was sure that the twins could manage it. She would be there, watching out for them after all.

Bellatrix called for the shopkeeper, which drew the twins towards her as they wondered what had caught her interest. From behind a curtained doorway, a young woman came forth, with drab hair, eyes, and clothes, making her look entirely colourless. Though the woman seemed unassuming at first glance, there was a sharpness in her eyes, and an assurance in her bearing.

"Something interests you?" the woman asked Bellatrix, resting her hands on the rough wooden counter.

"I'd like to purchase a pair of wands," Bellatrix replied without preamble. The shopkeeper nodded and opened the glass display case where the wands were held. She gave no warning about the fact that the wands might not suit Bellatrix, but assumed that the other woman would know. Taking the box of wands, she set it upon the counter.

The twins were at Bellatrix's side now, curious about the wands.

"Well, my babies, let's see if we can find something that suits, shall we?" Bellatrix asked them. She pulled out a pair of wands, and held them out to the twins. If the shopkeeper objected, she did not say, but simply watched the scene with her assessing gaze.

The twin's eyes widened. They knew that most witches and wizards did not receive their first wands until they were eleven. Even if Bellatrix had not told them, Draco had certainly mentioned it often enough, as he prattled on about all the magic he had planned to do when he was older. Not questioning Bellatrix's actions (for the assumed that she would know best), the reached out for the wands.

Holly had no reaction from her wand, but Harry's caused a ceramic figurine to shatter. The shopkeeper did not even blink, but waved her own wand to fix the figurine. Bellatrix took the wands from the twins and set them aside, handing them another pair. This time, neither of them had a reaction.

They tried wand after wand, and because there hadn't been too many in the box, the twins had tried them all with no luck. Bellatrix's lips formed an irritated moue.

"Is that all you have?" Bellatrix demanded of the shopkeeper. None of the wands were ideal (not that she was expecting that), but Bellatrix had hoped to find something that was at least passably compatible.

The shopkeeper hummed thoughtfully. "I have another pair of wands - brother wands, but they are dangerous wands." The shopkeeper's eyes looked from one twin to the other. "Not only to others, but to the bearer of the wands."

It was a warning, but Bellatrix ignored it. "Well?" she demanded. "Let's see them then!"

With a nod, the woman retreated to the back of the store behind the curtain and returned, carrying a long and narrow box with no lid. She set the box upon the counter. Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with interest, and her bony hands reached for the wands with eagerness. Before she touched them, her eyes widened, causing her to hesitate. But then, a crazed toothy grin spread across her face and she clutched the wands. There was a curious sound, like a cracking snap and a hiss as Bellatrix held the wands, and the twins widened as they saw that her hands seemed to be smoking.

Bellatrix looked down at the twins, and held the pair of wands towards them. Unlike the other wands that they had held, this pair of wands were particularly plain, with no embellishments. They looked like little more than straight, narrow sticks, with no knots in the wood or bends of any kind. Not daring to hesitate (especially when Bellatrix was in this particular mood), the twins took the wands. When Bellatrix opened her hands, they were both shocked to see it blistered and red.

As Harry and Holly held the wands, there was no snapping or hissing sound, but both of them felt a slick foreign sensation in their magic, like something oily was in their veins. It was an uncomfortable feeling and neither of them cared for it, but Bellatrix's teeth were showing, and her eyes had a manic gleam.

"Go on! Wave it about!" Bellatrix insisted, sounding almost breathless with excitement.

Harry and Holly shared a look, that silently expressed their unease, but they obeyed Bellatrix, giving the wands and down and up flick. A blackish green mist oozed from the tip of the wands, coiling with snake-like undulations, swirling ever so slowly around Bellatrix who stood between the twins. Bellatrix's heavy-lidded eyes closed and she moaned with pleasure.

"Yessss," Bellatrix hissed. "Yes, yes!" She snapped her eyes open and spun around, facing the shopkeeper. "The woods. The cores. I must know!"

The shopkeeper looked down at Holly's wand with an inscrutable expression Her wand was a blackish brown colour. "The girl's wand is ... with a … hair core"

She looked at Harry's wand which was a reddish brown colour. "And the boy's wand is ... with a … hair core"

Bellatrix cursed. "Useless translation charm!" While the charm worked for most basic words, it did not seem to have been able to translated the wood and core type.

The shopkeeper did not seem surprised that Bellatrix was not a native, and had been using a translation charm. Though the woman appeared to be the sort who would be unforthcoming, she instead attempted to work around the charm. "The core comes from the hair of a creature with a human-like head, a lion's body and a scorpion's tail."

Bellatrix gasped. "Manticore? I've never heard of anyone using manticore hair for wands."

The shopkeeper shrugged. "I do not make wands. I know little to nothing about wandlore. This pair was sold to me by a stranger to these parts who looked to be cursed and near dying."

Bellatrix was indifferent to the story, but Harry and Holly's stomachs twisted uncomfortably. They were still holding onto their wands, and still feeling that oiliness beneath their skin, but both of them wanted to let the wands go. Yet, neither of them quite dared to do so in front of Bellatrix. She had seemed so pleased with the wands.

"How much?" Bellatrix demanded of the shopkeeper.

The plain woman frowned, looking at Harry and the Holly. They tried to keep their expressions neutral, but she must have sensed their discomfort, for there was the faintest flicker of pity in her eyes that vanished as quickly as it came.

"I do not feel comfortable selling these wands," the shopkeeper eventually replied, her calm gaze returning to Bellatrix.

"What?!" Bellatrix screeched. "No one denies me! How much?!"

The shopkeeper shook her head. "Sorry, but I will not sell them."

Furious, Bellatrix pulled her wand out, and with an ugly curl of her lips, she pointed the wand at the woman's forehead. "I said, how much?"

The shopkeeper replied with a cold smile. "My shop is protected with enchantments that prevent harm from coming to me. You cannot coerce me into selling those wands."

Bellatrix bared her teeth. "Protective enchantments can't protect you from everything. Especially not when you're dealing with a witch like me."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed the plain woman's face. But before she could say or do anything in her own defence, Bellatrix called out: "_Crucio!_"

The shopkeeper's crumbled to her knees, a terrifying scream of pain escaping her lips as the torture curse caused her to feel like white-hot knives were piercing every inch of her skin, and a terrible pressure made her feel like her skull and bones were twisting and ripping and crushing the sensitive organs around them. Not wanting to release the curse, Bellatrix had stepped forward, so that she could continue holding the curse on the woman behind the counter.

Harry and Holly gasped in horror, both of them dropping their wands, as they brought their hands to their ears and squeezed their eyes shut. Bellatrix had spoken of torture before, and they had witnessed her doing terrible things to their muggle relatives (or not exactly witnessed, since they had shut their eyes that time too, though they could not shut their ears), but that did not make it any less frightening or disturbing for them. But they did not make a move to stop Bellatrix - she was their mama, so surely, what she was doing was for a good cause, wasn't it? It was something they had to believe in their hearts. They refused to think that their savior would be needlessly cruel.

Bellatrix held the curse for only a minute, but for the shopkeeper and the twins, the minute felt like a long eternity. When Bellatrix released the curse, the woman was moaning and panting heavily. Bellatrix's eyes sparkled with a fiendish glee, and she kept her wand still pointed at the trembling shopkeeper.

"Well?" Bellatrix purred. "How much?"

The shopkeeper looked up at Bellatrix, her face streaked with wet tears. "I refuse to profit from your ... Take the wands and never come back," she spat out. "May you rue the day that you ever set sight on those ... things." Though the translation charm did not catch all the words, the meaning was clear enough.

Bellatrix's eyes widened, and then she threw back her head and laughed. The twins, who had dropped their hands from their ears and opened their eyes, shuffled closer together and held hands, watching Bellatrix with a mix of awe and uncertainty. The awe wasn't because they took pleasure in torture, but when Bellatrix was like this, she exuded a wild sort of power and beauty that was incredibly alluring. The uncertainty was because for all that Bellatrix might see a Darkness within them, they did not enjoy the pain of others.

They had hesitantly admitted this to Bellatrix once, that they did not like causing others pain (though they made an exception when it came to those who had hurt them first, like the muggles.) They were worried it would disappoint her. But Bellatrix had laughed indulgently and said that they would grow out of it, that underlying sort of compassion that someone like Bellatrix would never understand. ("You're strong," Bellatrix had told them that day. "I know you're strong, so even if you think you do not like to see others in pain, you will learn to enjoy it. I know it.")

The laughter tapered off, and Bellatrix turned to look at the twins, a relaxed and affectionate smile on her lips. Torturing others always did make Bellatrix feel good. "Pick up the wands," she ordered. "We're going, my babies."

-o-

The twins had feared that their rapid disappearance would leave Draco feeling betrayed, and they weren't wrong. He had been hurt by the way they had vanished, and that had quickly given way to a burning, uncontrollable rage. Nothing his mother or father had said had calmed him, and they were at a loss as to how to comfort him. When that fury eventually burnt itself out, Draco's anger turned into sadness and he was an inconsolable mess. He missed the twins terribly, with a soul-wrenching pain that was like nothing he had ever experienced. The feeling was like a black, gaping hole in his chest - why did the twins make him feel this way? Like something within him was missing (or worse - something had been ripped away from him?)

They were his best friends. Yes, he had other playmates, but it really wasn't the same. The twins were something _special_ and not just because they were the Twins-Who-Lived, but there was something between them that drew him in, and made him yearn.

He was fairly articulate for a six year old (proper diction reflected well on a person after all, and Draco, Holly and Harry were being raised under pure-blood values, which meant that it was important to be superior not only in wealth and status, but in one's carriage as well.) But he still couldn't articulate why he wanted the twins the way he did. And while it was childish, and while he knew his parents (and especially his father) would not approve, he could not help his emotions. It hurt! It hurt like nothing had ever hurt before, to want something so, so badly, and yet know that it was out of reach.

The day that the twins had left, Draco had been in shock. His mother had pulled him into the corridor outside of Aunt Bella's rooms, and he thought that without his Aunt's spiteful presence, he might be able to convince his mother to let him go with the twins. In his heart, perhaps he already knew that she wouldn't - he could see the resolve in her eyes, and yet, he was so good at getting his own way that he could not help the little seed of hope within his chest. But then, there was a loud crack, and Draco and his mother had looked towards the closed doors in shock.

"No," his mother gasp. "She wouldn't have -" His mother pushed the chamber door opens, but Aunt Bella, and the twins were gone.

"Harry? Holly?" Draco called out, hesitantly. Surely they would not have left without speaking to him. They had said they wanted him to come along, so how could they just leave him?

"Mother - where are they?"

"Oh, dragon," his mother replied sadly, causing a sharp, knife-like pain in his chest. He didn't want to believe it. He refused to believe it!

"No!" he cried out, and began to frantically search Aunt Bella's chambers, even though he knew that she would punish him terribly if she knew (though generally, Draco's mother and father protected him from Aunt Bella's wrath.)

"Harry! Holly! Come out!" He demanded, peering into the bedroom, checking the bed, and flinging open the wardrobe. "Please come out!"

"Darling!" his mother called to him, pleadingly, but he ignored her. She reached out for him, but he slipped out of reach, continuing to frantically search the room.

"Harry! Holly! Where are you hiding?"

Unable to bear it anymore, his mother stunned him with the gentlest _stupefy_ charm that she could manage. She caught him before he crumbled to the floor, and then called for a house-elf to put him into bed.

It wasn't until the following day that the twin's absence truly hit Draco. He had woken up feeling a bit groggier than usual, thinking about how it looked like another sunny day, and it would be nice if he could skip his lessons and play with Harry and Holly instead. He had been lying there, daydreaming about the fun they would have together when it suddenly occurred to him that: No, that wouldn't be happening. It wouldn't be happening because the twins were gone! With this thought, he burst into tears.

His crying brought his house-elf Wiffim, who quickly vanished to call for Mistress Narcissa. Not long after, his mother dashed into his room and to his bedside (and though it was early, she was already dressed for the day, in elegant robes, and every hair in place). She had been expecting something like this so she gathered him into her arms, holding him close - something she had often done when he was younger, but less so these days since Draco had insisted that he was too old for it.

"Shh, hush, my dragon, hush." His mother stroked his silky strands of hair, in gentle soothing motions. "Hush. It's all right. I know, I know, it's hard."

Draco only continued to sob, and while the tears would have soaked an ordinary set of robes, his mother's elegant robes were charmed so that no dust or dirt or moisture could affect them. As soon as his tears touched the fabric, they magically vanished away, leaving only the silky soft, dry fabric against Draco's cheeks.

"Shh. It's all right now. I have you, my dragon. It's all right."

She held him for a while longer, until his sobs turned into hiccups and ragged breathing. "I'm here for you, darling dragon. I'm here." she murmured, her voice tender.

"The - twins," he gasped out. "I want - them - back."

"I'm sorry, my dragon," Draco's mother murmured. These were not the words he wanted to hear. What he wanted to hear was that his parents would exert their considerable power to give him what he wanted.

His tears, which had begun to subside, sprung anew, and he was bawling again.

"Oh, darling!" his mother exclaimed, now caressing him more frantically, not that it helped. "Please don't cry! They'll come back. There, there, sweet dragon. Hush. Tizzy!" One of the house-elves appeared with a pop in front of the bed.

"Tizzy, get some Calming Draught." The house-elf nodded at his mother's orders and vanished, reappearing with the phial of potion.

Draco drank the potion without a fuss, and his sobs once again were reduced, this time to mournful sighs as he burrowed against his mother.

"I want them back," he repeated, his words muffled against his mother's robes. "Make them come back."

This time, his mother did not reply, but instead, continued to stroke his hair. Eventually, he fell back into a fitful sleep, and she tucked him in, letting him rest.

-o-

Holly and Harry were more shaken by the experience of witnessing the shopkeeper being tortured than they expected. In fact, the whole of experience of being away from Malfoy manor was more unsettling than they could have imagined. Though they had spent more time with their muggle relatives than they had spent with Bellatrix and Draco at Malfoy manor, the manor still felt more like home than the muggle's suburban house ever did. Mohnburg was interesting, and there were many things here that captivated them, but as much as they enjoyed it, it did not feel like home, which was disturbing because for Harry and Holly, home had always felt like each other - they had never been attached to a place before.

Living with the muggles had been like an unending nightmare for them, and not just because the muggles had been abusive. They were constantly worried for each other. Harry may not have been to concerned about his own fate, having developed a fearless numbness that was tragic in one so young, but he feared for Holly. And while Holly was more vulnerable, she felt the same for Harry. But then Bellatrix had swooped in and saved them and she had been unlike anyone they had ever known. While the muggles had reviled them, Bellatrix accepted them. No, it was more than acceptance. She seemed to admire them, which was something they had never experienced from an adult. They craved that positive attention. For once in their lives, they felt as though they might be worthy. Bellatrix was the parent that they had longed for, for all that she was erratic and emotionally unpredictable.

If they had stayed at Malfoy manor - if they hadn't been pulled into this mad quest of Bellatrix's, it was certain that the twins would have been entirely different people, despite Bellatrix's wild moods and behaviour. Perhaps they would have turned out more like Draco, or other indulged pure-blood children. Perhaps they would have accepted the pure-blood indoctrination, and more easily accepted the Dark Arts, if they had remained in that sheltered bubble of existence. Because while it was true that Bellatrix was rather unstable, life at Malfoy manor itself was a form of stability. At the manor, Harry's fearless facade had begun to crumble, allowing him to experience the normal joys of childhood. Holly's vulnerability was protected, allowing her to open up more fully and safely. For all the restrictions that might be placed on pure-blood children, Harry and Holly were freer at the Malfoy manor than they had ever been in their lives, and it was the closest they ever were to becoming 'normal.' But that was not to be - the twins had not remained at Malfoy manor. And so, the destiny of Harry and Holly changed.

Neither of the twins were strangers to darkness, torture, death and pain. But when they had lived with the muggles, it was they who had been in darkness. It was they who had been tormented, physically and psychologically. Back then, when the twin's magic lashed out, in what the wizarding world called 'accidental magic,' it was almost always in violent methods through Holly. They never felt guilty about it. They would not have known - could not have known how Dark that magic was. All they knew was that their so-called guardians had hurt them, and the strange ability that Holly had to return that pain upon them seemed justified.

Yes, they had been called freaks, and were ostracised by the people around them, but they accepted each other, and in a way, they were each other's lifelines. The world might have appeared to hate them, but as long as they were on each other's side, they could survive. But just because it was Holly's magic that tended to lash out, it did not mean that Harry's magic remained dormant, or that Harry remained passive. Curiously, Harry's magic tended to be more defencive than offensive, protective rather than harmful. But Harry manifested his protectiveness towards his twin in other ways - through physical action.

If Harry had been an only child, perhaps he would have been more careful and withdrawn. Perhaps he would have been more willing to submit to his relatives' cruelty. But having Holly changed things entirely. Having Holly meant protecting Holly because Holly was like an extension of himself. And so, Harry did not lash out with magic, but he lashed out with his limbs through punches and kicks, and he lashed out with his teeth, through snarls and bites, and in the end, his muggle relatives felt perfectly justified in collaring and chaining him.

Perhaps his life would have been a bit easier if it had just been him. Perhaps he would have kept his head down, and stayed quiet, and would have had more room in the cupboard, and would only have had to endure yelling (and the occasional food deprivation), but that would have been a different Harry in a different universe. And Harry knew that even with the horrible mistreatment at the hands of the muggles, he wouldn't have given up his twin for anything, and she would have felt the exact same. They were each other's source of strength and love. He couldn't have known that the link between them amplified whatever strange Darkness existed. He couldn't have imagined that having Holly in his life, somehow made things worse.

Since they had known her, the twins felt that Bellatrix was someone who was on their side. Because she was the first person to accept them, accept their magic, they felt that she understood them. Harry and Holly did not exactly see themselves as being good people. Their time with the muggles had left them scarred with the belief that they were wicked, dangerous creatures, who were most definitely _bad_. And while they had been very young, and their morals weren't fully developed, they still knew that it was wrong to hurt people (the way that Harry and Holly hurt their relatives, even if it had been in self-defence.) But for all that there was a deep-seated conviction of their own badness, it wasn't really true. The twins might not have known this, but they were both caring souls, who loved one another deeply, and if their muggle relatives had shown even a modicum of mercy and kindness, the twins would have soaked it up in a heartbeat, and would have been willing to be good and to please.

But that wasn't what happened. Instead, Bellatrix had swooped in like an avenging angel, and it had been she who had shown them kindness, and she who had said that they were magical, and that their magic was a wonderful (delicious, entrancing, bewitching) thing. And Bellatrix had then tortured, and tormented and utterly destroyed their muggle relatives, all the while firm in the belief that it was a _good_ thing. So if Holly and Harry had hurt those same muggles in the past, didn't that make them _good_ as well?

Yes, Bellatrix did speak of torture and death and destruction as if they were good things. Which meant that the conflict and distress the twins felt upon seeing the shopkeeper being tortured was _wrong_ wasn't it? Their young mind struggled to wrap their heads around the whole matter. They clung to each other, closer than ever, desperately trying to be each other's anchors. They weren't afraid of Bellatrix, but they were afraid of _something._ But how could they put into words, what they felt? There was no one in their lives to tell them that with Bellatrix, up was down, and wrong was right. There was no one who had said to their face (not even Lucius or Draco), that Bellatrix might have been more than a little insane.

If the twins didn't enjoy torture (and deep down in their hearts, they really, really didn't), would they disappoint Bellatrix? She had claimed that they would learn to love it, learn to enjoy it. All they could really do was hope that she might be right. And besides, Bellatrix only tortured those who deserved it. Didn't she?

-o-

Despite being in Mohnburg, far away from the familiar setting of Malfoy manor, the twin's chaotic lessons with Bellatrix still continued, but now, the added instructions on the use of their wands. Bellatrix had hoped that their stay at Mohnburg would be a short one. She was an impatient woman, who valued action over planning, but after her talk with Old Aldo, she learned that finding the Crystal Cave would be more challenging than she initially thought.

Old Aldo, it turned out, did not know the location of the Crystal Caves, but he knew of someone who would be able to direct Bellatrix there. Perhaps 'someone' wasn't entirely the right word, for it was a creature or perhaps a being who knew of the whereabouts of the Crystal Cave and not a human. The notion made Bellatrix want to sneer with contempt. Like most other pure-blood witches and wizards, she viewed creatures and beings and other humanoid or non-humanoid species as being beneath her. Nonetheless, she would endure interactions with the creature, if it brought her closer to the Dark Lord.

The being's name was Gris Malmangeur, and he supposedly gravitated towards the mountains far to the southwest, but beyond that, Old Aldo knew little. He was not even able to tell Bellatrix what kind of creature this Gris Malmangeur was. Due to the lack of detailed information, Bellatrix was left with a sour feeling, sure that the search would take longer than she had anticipated. This meant that she and the twins would likely have to spend a great deal of time travelling, and their travels meant that they would need to pack appropriately.

Thus, instead of leaving Mohnburg immediately, they spent a week, purchasing the necessary supplies and planning the best route to travel. And because Bellatrix refused to travel on foot (both because she had no desire to make such an effort, and because it was horribly inefficient,) they ended up purchasing a couple of steeds. They couldn't have travelled by apparition or other faster means of wizarding travel, simply because Bellatrix knew so little of the region. Bellatrix would have preferred a winged horse - they were fast, powerful and noble creatures, but they were also highly regulated, and no one in Mohnburg bred them. What they had instead were some magical goats and rams that they called hitzetiers.

Though Bellatrix was less than impressed, Holly and Harry were delighted by the hitzetiers. They were silvery in colour - not grey, but a shimmery, glossy white-and-true-silver, with long, wavy coats, and dark blue eyes. The rams had immense, bronze-coloured curling horns, and matching bronze-coloured hooves. While the hitzetiers were temperamental steeds, they did have certain benefits over regular muggle steeds. Unlike regular goats or horses, the hitzetier were bred for mountain travel, and their bodies emitted an unusual degree of heat. This was a great benefit in the harsh winters, but since it was currently spring, it was not very great advantage. With the hitzetiers, they also had to purchase blankets charmed to remain cool, so that riding the rams would not cause them to overheat.

At the moment, Bellatrix and the twins were at the outskirts of the village. Bellatrix was seated on a transfigured blanket in a clearing and she was busy pouring over maps, while keeping half-an-eye on the twins, who were practicing with their new wands (at her insistence.) She hated the idea of being trapped within their room at the inn - it was so unpleasantly rustic compared to the grandeur she was accustomed to, that the idea of being out in the woods was much preferable. Though one would think that a rich and snobby pure-blood would feel nothing but disdain towards nature, it had its own sort of earthy magic that appealed to Bellatrix's sense of taste. It helped too, that she could use magic to assure her comfort.

Harry and Holly stood side by side, making a diagonal slashing movement with their wands. Bellatrix had wanted them to use magic to cut through the branches in the low shrubs in front of them. However, while many of her previous lessons had been detailed and very explicit (in part, thanks to the aid of books), the same could not be said about Bellatrix's magic lessons. However, the main reason for this was due to the unconventional way that Bellatrix viewed magic: through the lens of feeling and intuition.

"Magic is all about intent," Bellatrix had explained, soon after giving them their wands. "Yes, I know I've had you read texts on magical theory, and those books would have you believe that you need to worry about correct incantations, and wand movements. But I only gave you those books so that when you two start at Hogwarts, you'll have a head start. The magic in those books is limited. But no one at Hogwarts will tell you that." Hogwarts was a magical school for witchcraft and wizardry, but the twins wouldn't be going there until they were at the advanced age of eleven.

Bellatrix twirled her hair, in an oddly girlish manner, as she continued to lecture. "I'm not saying to forget what you've learned in those books. I expect both of you to achieve excellent grades. No, what I'm saying as that magic is much _much _more than what is written in all those musty old course books. What they teach you at Hogwarts is a very limited type of magic. It's what most people would call either Light or Grey magic."

Bellatrix tilted her head, yet another girlish gesture. "Not that Light or Grey magic means that a person is _good_." She cackled with amusement, giving the twins a sly look. "After all, it was a Light Wizard who left you two with those filthy muggles.

"The point is, that magic is more than what they'll be teaching you at school. Think! If all magic required Latin incantations, then how could the Ancient Egyptians, or Ancient Mayans or Ancient Chinese have performed magic, hm? Incantations are a type of structure, but magic doesn't need structure in order to work. In fact, some magic, like Dark Magic, often works better with chaos and intuition."

Bellatrix never explicitly mentioned whether the type of magic she was planning to teach the twins was Dark Magic. She only referred to it as just 'magic.'

"Between you," Bellatrix continued, "You already have a very remarkable magic, even if it is poorly channelled. While I could show you words and wand-waving, you would be better off to learn to feel your own magic, and to let your own strength of will create the results."

And with that, Bellatrix demanded that they start off with trying to cut the branches off of the shrubs, while she tried to determine where the mysterious Gris Malmangeur might be located.

Harry furrowed his brow, slashing his wand more aggressively in frustration. Picking up on his mood, Holly nudged him in sympathy. At most, they had gotten the branches to snap, but they hadn't been able to cut them.

Worse yet was simply having to handle the wands in the first place. The oily feeling still persisted, seeping into their very flesh, making them both feel dirty and unhappy. While it was true that the wands did not burn them, the way that it burned Bellatrix, that did not mean that they liked the wands. And yet, for all that they felt repulsed by the wands, they both had the impression that the wands liked them. It was strange - they might hate that oily feeling, but that oiliness seemed to be the wand's way of trying to claim them.

"Picture cutting it in your mind," Bellatrix called out to them from her spot on the blanket. "I told you that just waving your wand about won't help."

Harry and Holly nodded. They were already both agitated by their failure, combined with the ickiness of their wand, so when they envisioned cutting through the shrub, they did not picture simply cutting one or two branches, but entirely shearing the whole plant in half. Making identical sharp slashes with their wands, they gasped, as they saw the results. The shrubs had been cut clean in half. More than that, they felt a liquid warmth in their veins, as though that oily sensation was pleased with them. As much as they disliked the strange greasy feeling, this liquid warmth was rather pleasant.

"Oh, very good!" Bellatrix praised. "Again!"

Harry and Holly repeated the action until there was a pile of sticks and leaves scattered across the ground. Between them, their magic seemed to purr contentedly, and while it felt good, it also felt a bit bad, like a drug of sorts. It was almost like they knew that they were doing themselves harm, and yet, once they began, it was hard to stop. When they finally finished and pocketed their wands for the day, they felt a mixture of relief, mingled with a sense of loss. Harry shot Holly a look. He could see the way she longed to caress her wand, and he knew this because he felt the same way. It felt good, and yet, it felt so _gross_.

Holly couldn't help but be aware of a sort of itchiness across her skin. She rubbed her arm, lifting the sleeve of her robes, and noticed that her skin looked a bit reddish and raw - especially her wand arm. When she peered over at Harry, she could see that he too was rubbing his skin.

"Mama," Holly ventured, disrupting Bellatrix from the maps and books scattered around her.

"Hmm?"

"Are our wands supposed to make us feel -" Holly looked over at her brother.

"Oily."

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. "Wands feel unique to the users. Does performing the magic make you feel good?"

"Well - yes, I suppose, but -"

"But not." Harry finished. "It feels kind of -"

Holly searched for the right words. "Icky."

Bellatrix examined the twins expressions, and they shuffled nervously. "It will probably feel odd because you're using wands that aren't completely compatible. For now, just be strong, my babies. If you can master these wands, then once you turn eleven and receive your wands from Ollivander's, it will be that much better." Ollivander's was the wand shop in Diagon Alley where most children in Britain purchased their wands. Ollivander himself was an actual wandmaker, unlike the shopkeeper at Mohnburg.

Satisfied with her answer, Harry and Holly accepted Bellatrix's reasoning. Without giving it too much though, both of them touched their wands. In an odd, contradicting way, they both enjoyed the sensation of it, while feeling relieved that they wouldn't be stuck with the wands forever.

In the following days, Bellatrix had the twins move on from severing sticks, to severing branches, and then finally severing insects. While neither Harry nor Holly particularly cared for insects, it made their skin crawl to use the sharp slash of their wand to cut the little creatures in half. For some reason, it felt both better to kill insects than to slash branches, but also somehow more disgusting (beyond the natural disgust they felt for insects.) It made them feel almost tainted. Worst yet, after cutting apart so many insects, their skin was even more raw than before - it almost looked scratched in places, even though neither Holly nor Harry could recall scratching themselves.

Finally, after a what felt like a long week, Bellatrix deemed that they were ready to depart. Harry and Holly were relieved - not because Mohnburg was boring, or because there was nothing to do. In truth, both of them felt homesick, and being stuck in one place meant that they both had a lot of time to think (and a lot of time to miss Draco.) They had both written Draco a simple letter (Bellatrix would not help them, so they had to sound out words themselves), and were now awaiting his reply. When they asked how the owls could find their way to the letter's recipient, Bellatrix just answered: 'magic, of course' while rolling her eyes, as if it were ridiculously obvious.

Everything that they needed was packed away, and shrunk by Bellatrix. The twins were petting the hitzetier that they would be riding, while Bellatrix looked at her own steed with disdain. The magical ram, seeming to sense Bellatrix's disgust, skittered nervously, while the twin's own steed nudged at their hands for more pets.

"Babies," Bellatrix called out to them. "You know you need not stick to only cutting spells. Anything you see me do, you are free to try and repeat." Though it sounded like a suggestion, the twins knew that it wasn't. Bellatrix had high expectations for them both, and wanted to push the limits of their natural ability, to see the kinds of magic they could perform.

While it was true that performing magic with pure intent might be less efficient, and much more dangerous than performing magic with specific incantations and wand movements, Bellatrix knew that it would would give them a sense of magic in a way that wand movements and incantations never could. Yes, they might waste massive amounts of magical energy, but Bellatrix saw it as part of the learning process. She had never cared about doing things the 'right' way. What mattered was getting things done.

Bellatrix and the twins mounted their hitzetiers and left Mohnburg heading towards the southwest, as Old Aldo had suggested. Though they did not appear that way at first glance, the silvery hitzetiers were surprisingly agile and fleet of foot, navigating the mountain roads with ease. In spite of the cooling blankets between the hitzetiers and the twins, they soon felt over-warm, from both the sun overhead, and the mount beneath them.

Fortunately, they soon entered into the forest of tall evergreens, which provided welcome shade. The air here was earthy and fragrant, and they could hear the flitting sound of bird wings, as well as the rustling of the breeze through the trees. The scenery was interesting at first - especially when Harry and Holly caught sight of the various woodland creatures, but they soon grew bored with the monotony of it.

Once they were in a settled pace, Bellatrix decided the best use of their time was to continue their lessons, so she pulled out one of the shrunken books and chose a topic to quiz them on, with a mix of questions that were either ridiculously easy, or confusingly convoluted and near impossible to understand. Either way, the twins attempted to answer diligently, trying their best to please their mama.

They took a break to rest and eat by a stream in the afternoon. Bellatrix insisted that they take out their wands, and attempt a new spell.

"It doesn't matter what," she informed them, with an airy wave of her hand. "Attempt something that you've seen me do."

Harry and Holly shared a look. The first thing that came to their mind was to attempt to levitate something. There was simply something about levitation that felt so innately magical. Harry focused on a fallen branch, while Holly aimed her wand at a stone by the river. They imagined lifting the objects in their mind, and exerted their will, channeling their magic through their wands. The oily feeling made them both want to jump into the stream and wash themselves off, but they ignored it. Bellatrix watched with mild interest as sweat beaded on their foreheads, but eventually, the branch and stone rose a few centimetres off the ground.

With a heavy exhale, Harry and Holly released the items. They were aware of that itchiness on their skin yet again, but it felt a little sharper this time, and they rubbed themselves uncomfortably, trying to sooth the sensation.

"Not bad," Bellatrix murmured, her eyelids at half-mast. She had not explicitly told the twins so, but this unstructured form of magic that she was making them practice was closer to Dark Magic than to either Grey or Light. Doing neutral spells, such as levitation, was actually fairly tricky when one was channeling Darker energies. In comparison, the cutting spell was much easier because of its more violent intent. Thus, even if levitation might have seemed very basic, she was pleased with their progress.

Too drained and uncomfortable to do any more spellwork, the twins climbed back on their hitzetier, and followed Bellatrix as she led them further into the forest. Once again, Bellatrix's lessons continued, as she pulled out another one of the books she had kept stored away and imparted the knowledge to the twins, reading with a melodic voice that instantly enraptured the twins.

-o-

Narcissa hoped that as the weeks passed, that Draco would grow accustomed to the twin's absence and his misery would subside. It was normal to feel grief when loved ones were gone, and she understood this. She knew of Draco's attachment to the twins - he had gone from seeing them every day for nearly two years, to suddenly having them whisked away by her impulsive sister. So, as much as it it pained her to see her dragon hurting, she patiently waited for his pain to lessen, trusting that he would grow accustomed to their absence.

Unfortunately, Narcissa was wrong. While at first, Draco seemed to be doing better since his fits of crying had ceased (though part of that may have been due to all the Calming Draughts), he had taken on a wan look that did not seem to improve with time. His sleep had become broken, and Narcissa hesitated to give him too many sleeping potions, because they were known to be addictive, and yet, as a mother, it broke her heart to see him suffer so.

The only time he had ever perked up was when he received letters from the twins, but those bouts of elevated mood were always short-lived and he would sink back into his melancholy. As the days passed, she and Lucius noticed the way that he would pick and poke at his food (which was appallingly ill-mannered, though they did not scold him too harshly about it.) Draco just seemed to stop wanting to do anything. He was indifferent during his lessons with his tutor. He had no interest in playing on his training broom or other beloved toys. And worst of all, he stopped eating.

"We have to do something about this," Lucius gritted out, when it was clear that the situation would not improve on its own. They were in their shared bedchamber, Narcissa sitting on the delicate chair in front of her vanity, and Lucius pacing. "This cannot continue."

"But what?" Narcissa pleaded, desperately wanting a solution. "He's so young."

"Young, yes, but he is a Malfoy. This kind of behaviour is unacceptable." Lucius's words sounded harsh, but Narcissa knew that her husband meant well.

"Perhaps, given more time -"

"Give him more time, and he's likely to starve himself to death!" Lucius's voice was raised, and Narcissa flinched. It wasn't like him to be so emotive, and it showed the depths of his concern.

"What should we do then? The healers have already taken a look at him. They say that it's all in his mind."

Lucius and stopped pacing, and stood before her, a hard look in his clear grey eyes.

"Lucius?"

"Yes. It is all in his mind. Which is why we _obliviate_ him."

Narcissa gasped. Did Lucius truly want to use memory charms on her darling dragon? Admittedly, the Malfoys knew that many parents obliviated their children as a method to manage naughty or undesirable behaviour. Narcissa had never particularly condoned such methods. It was such _lazy_ parenting, and it seemed horribly excessive. Surely he could recover on his own. "Two years, Lucius," Narcissa said, barely above a whisper. "It's two years worth of memories, and he is so young! The danger!"

"It won't be so dangerous if we do it together, Narcissa."

Narcissa seemed to be in a state of shock, so Lucius continued: "We need to wipe the memory of those twins from his mind. His fixation on them isn't becoming, and while I had hoped that some space from them would lessen his obsession, it has only worsened. If we can erase those two from his mind, then he can go back to being himself. Were he older, I might trust him to pull himself together, and exhibit greater self-discipline, but -" Lucius grimaced, "- he is still just a child, and lacks sufficient control over his own emotions and reactions. We cannot keep giving him potions. It is not a permanent solution. _Obliviating_ him would be the most merciful solution and would do the least harm."

"But - but what will we do when Bella and the twins return? What of their letters?"

"If, they return."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Bella will return." She refused to doubt her own sister, even if the consequences of Bellatrix's return meant the return of the Dark Lord.

"If they return, then we will simply treat it as a first meeting," Lucius decided. "As for their letters, it's only sensible that we withhold them from Draco."

"A first meeting," Narcissa echoed. Though she hated the idea of using a memory charm on her darling dragon, the idea had its appeal. Draco was indeed a little too fixated on the twins. Perhaps, if he were to meet them again, that same obsession would not arise. It would be a fresh new start for them. "This might just work."

"Write to Bellatrix. Tell her of our plan to _obliviate_ Draco. She'll take care of the rest," Lucius answered.

Narcissa considered his words, and then nodded. It was true enough - if Bellatrix knew that Draco was obliviated, she might not do the same to the twins, but she would certainly go along with their plan. Bellatrix had always been rather single-minded. All she cared about at the moment was the Dark Lord and the twins. If they wrote to her, telling her that Draco no longer remembered the twins, she would likely view it as a positive thing - after all, as disturbing as it may have seemed, Bellatrix likely saw Draco as a distraction, and would be happy to know that he was out of the way.

"When will we do this?" Narcissa asked her husband.

His grey eyes scanned her face, as though wanting to ascertain that she was truly on his side in this matter. After all, he cared deeply for his wife, and did not want to drive a wedge between them by creating conflict. Satisfied with what he saw, he answered. "Tomorrow."

-o-

Bellatrix and the twins had been travelling for a few weeks now in large part because Old Aldo's directions were so vague, but also because there was a lot of ground to cover. There were certain signs that Bellatrix was looking out for, which slowed their progress, and unfortunately, these signs seemed scattered at random intervals. Instead of taking any sort direct route, they seemed to almost zigzag from place to place, stopping frequently as Bellatrix examined the signs, or pulled out one of her books to reference certain notes. Bellatrix also made an effort to avoid any major muggle cities and settlements. When the twins had questioned her actions, she made mention of some sort of magical territorial markers, but Bellatrix also hinted that she hoped to find the Crystal Caves on her own without the aid of the mysterious being called Gris Malmangeur.

Though Holly and Harry were rapidly growing accustomed to the wonders of the wizarding world, they were both still enchanted by the silvery hitzetier, with their gentle dark-blue eyes that seemed preternaturally intelligent. They had named their mount Hamal, and secretly called Bellatrix's mount Sheratan, and while Bellatrix found it to be ridiculous, they treated the rams like dear pets, feeding them flowers, and scratching them between their bronze horns. Though there had been a number of interesting (and usually decorative) creatures at Malfoy manor, it was the first time that Harry and Holly felt that they had a pet of their own.

The twins were also fascinated by the wizarding tent that Bellatrix had packed for their travels. While the wizarding tent was not the most impressive magic that there was, the twins still found it amazing. Of course, one of the reasons that the charmed tent was so remarkable was because it belonged to the Malfoys. Being one of the richest families in Wizarding Britain, they could afford the very best charmed tent, so while the exterior of the tent appeared to be fairly plain (even if the material was silk), the interior of the tent was like a small palace. The Malfoys had even allowed Bellatrix to borrow one of their house elves, who seemed content to live within a magical space within the trunk, only appearing when called. After all, there was no way that Bellatrix would ever want to bother with anything as mundane as cleaning and tidying charms, or cooking magic, and neither did she expect the twins to do such work because obviously, such things were beneath them.

The tent was enchanted to assemble and disassemble itself with a tap a wand. From the outside, it looked as though it would fit the three of them, but one would think it would be a tight fit. However, from the inside, the space was so vast that there were seven bedrooms and three bathrooms, as well as a large central sitting room with its own marble fountain (though Harry and Holly couldn't figure out the purpose of it.) The floors were lush, magical persian rugs, and a few of the tent windows were enchanted. From one window, the outside scenery always looked like daytime, even in the dead of night. From another window, there was the view of the Malfoy manor's south garden - perhaps the familiar sight was meant to help sooth one's homesickness. For the twins, it only made their homesickness worse, so they avoided that window.

Bellatrix found the tent to be an improvement over the inn, but to her, it was still barely passable. Yet, it did provide plenty of table space for her to spread out her maps and her research. She felt that she was sure to come across this mysterious Gris Malmangeur soon.

Despite seeming as though they were in the middle of nowhere, Bellatrix still made use of magic to provide her all the resources that she might need. She had taken one of the manor's eagle owls (that did not mind being shrunk and packed away into charmed wizarding space within the trunk), so she was able to make use of the owl-post to order books, enabling her to further her research.

In the meantime, the twin's lessons, as well as their magical practice continued. Deliberately using magic remained extremely draining - they could rarely ever practice more than one spell a day. The twins found that certain spells were quite easy to do (such as slashing, or exploding, or setting things on fire, or crushing things, and in particular killing things but the twins could only bring themselves to kill insects, and even then, only the particularly scary and disgusting ones), while other spells that seemed like they would be simple were incredibly challenging (like cleaning things, or finding resources like fresh water, or even creating light.)

But while the challenging spells made their skin prickly and itchy, the easier (and more destructive spells) had other odd side-effects. If they attempted a particularly destructive spell, they sometimes found that on top of itchiness, that they also had mysterious cuts on their arms and bodies, or sometimes even bruises. They assumed it was a side-effect of using less-than-compatible wands. But at moments, they would think back to what the shopkeeper had said, so long ago: that their wands were dangerous not only to others, but to the bearer of the wands.

"Can a wand hurt a witch or a wizard?" Holly had asked Bellatrix, even as she was caressing the stick of wood in her pocket.

"Yes," Bellatrix answered. "One can be harmed if a witch's or wizard's alignment doesn't match with that of the wand. Failing to gain mastery of a wand can cause it to backfire as well."

"How do we know whether or not we're aligned with a wand? Or if we're masters of it?" Harry asked.

Bellatrix tilted her head thoughtfully. "You can tell by how your magic works." She looked down at their hands, which were in their robe pockets. "Your wands seem to like you."

"How can you tell, mama?" Holly wondered.

Bellatrix smirked. "Well, your wands have never burned you like they burned me, have they."

Harry and Holly shared a look. "We don't get burned - but other things happen," Harry informed her.

"We get bruises and cuts."

Bellatrix seemed to straighten, a look of interest lighting up her dark eyes. "Let me see."

The twins pulled up the sleeves of their robes, and showed her their arms. Bellatrix grabbed Holly's arm, stroking her finger along one of the cuts.

"Poor babies," Bellatrix murmured, though oddly, she did not sound that sympathetic, but rather thoughtful. Bellatrix looked into their green eyes and a pleased smile pulled her lips upwards. "You're doing well. Both of you. When you are older, and have better and stronger control, the cuts and bruises will go away. But for now -" Bellatrix pulled out her wand, and without a word, she healed their wounds. The twins noticed that after using that particular spell, dark circles had formed under her eyes and she looked particularly pallid, but they did not comment. Instead, they felt a greater love for their dear mama, who had done so, so much for them.

As the days slipped by, their store of food began to decrease, and because their journey was taking so much longer than Bellatrix had anticipated, she was in a sour mood. Though it irritated her to have to plan ahead, Bellatrix began to ration their food in a rare display of foresight. It wasn't as though they knew anything about this mountainous region of Germany, and who knew when they might come across some semblance of proper civilization (though Bellatrix's idea of proper civilization meant wizarding civilization, since to her, muggles were little better than animals.)

The mood between Bellatrix and the twins became more subdued, and while their lessons continued, they lacked the liveliness of earlier lessons. The strain of the situation was certainly getting to Bellatrix, who at times began to snap at the twins so that they both learned to keep quiet. Yet, neither of them resented Bellatrix - they knew that she was doing her best, and were predisposed towards thinking the best of her. They were well aware that she wasn't a very patient woman, so all things considered, she was doing rather well.

However, the twins were troubled by the fact that they had not received a letter from Draco for quite a while. At first, they thought that perhaps he had not received their last letter, so they even took the time to pen another one and yet, there was no reply to that as well.

"D'you think we said something wrong?" Holly asked her brother, who sat in front of her on their hitzetier, Hamal.

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Their spelling and penmanship still needed a lot of work, and their letters were fairly short, but he didn't think they could have said anything to offend their friend. He could sense Holly's fears though - he had the same fear after all, of losing Draco's friendship. When they had first arrived in Germany, the twins had been so tense, until they received that first letter from Draco that confirmed that while he was upset that they left without taking him along, he still wanted them in his life. It had been an immense weight off their hearts, but now that Draco wasn't writing them, that weighty pain was returning.

"I don't know," Harry finally replied.

"Maybe he's mad that we get to learn magic, but he can't," Holly suggested. It did sound like the sort of thing that Draco would be jealous over. However, as amazing as magic was, the twins couldn't claim to wholeheartedly love it. Not when they both craved, and yet dreaded their wands. Not when using magic felt both so pleasurable, and yet sickening and also uncomfortable or at times painful.

"Maybe," Harry echoed. Their conversation was disrupted by an exclamation from Bellatrix. They turned to look towards her, and then followed her eyes to see where she was looking. Their hitzetiers were climbing down a rise, and below, ringing one side of a small lake, were some cozy looking cottages, nestled amidst the trees.

Harry and Holly pulled Hamal alongside Bellatrix's silver hitzetier Sheratan. "Are they wizards?" Harry asked, looking from Bellatrix back down to the cottages.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, and there was a sadistic and predatory look on her face. "No. Not wizards. Muggles." She spat out the last word, saturating it with contempt.

"So we won't be staying?" Holly asked. Both the twins knew how much Bellatrix and the Malfoys disliked muggles.

A cruel smile caused Bellatrix's lips to curl upwards, but her dangerous gaze remained on the cottages. "I didn't say that my babies," she purred. "Let's tie up the mounts and go for a little walk, shall we?"

Holly and Harry did not know if it was a premonition, or if they were just adept at reading Bellatrix's moods, but they had a very bad feeling about what was to come. They found themselves grasping each other's hands, hugging tightly from atop their hitzetier, trying to take strength in the gentle flow of soothing magic between them. But ever since they had received their wands, there was something _else_ there. They couldn't really pinpoint it as something bad. But it did feel somehow foreign. While they could still take comfort in each other's magic, there was now an awareness that something had somehow changed, and somehow, they did not think it was a change for the better.

Bellatrix was fixated on the cabins below, and had not noticed the twin's nervous gesture.

"Maybe we should stay here and watch the Hamal and Sheratan," Holly offered tentatively. The twins knew that Bellatrix preferred boldness, but the disquieting feeling between them was intense enough that they were willing to risk her reproach.

The words caused Bellatrix to finally peel her eyes away from the colourful little houses. She looked at the pair of them, as though they had just said something so ludicrous that she was still trying to decide whether it had actually happened or not. But then Bellatrix began to laugh, her dark eyes alit with amusement.

"Sweet babies," she crooned warmly. "You have nothing to worry about. I won't let a few widdle muggles hurt you."

Harry and Holly's grip on each other didn't loosen. They hadn't actually even been considering their own safety. It hadn't even crossed their mind that they could be hurt. No, the fact was, after that incident with the shopkeeper, it was the people down in those cabins they were worried about. They were both aware of what Bellatrix was capable of. And yet, for all their concern, Bellatrix's words still soothed them. She was their mama, and she was telling them that she cared about them. That itself made it very difficult to say no to her.

Bellatrix and the twins dismounted. Being magical creatures, the hitzetiers did not need to be tied up, but were allowed to graze on the side of the grassy rise. If they wandered off, they would come when summoned with a particular whistled or sung melody.

Bellatrix gave the twins an indulgent smile, before eagerly striding down the towards the cottages with long, impatient steps, letting Harry and Holly trail a small ways behind her. Though the cottages fronted a beautiful blue-green lake, no one was in sight. Bellatrix and the twins were not aware of it, but these cottages were summer homes, and for much of the year, many of them remained vacant. However, that did not mean that all the little cottages were empty.

Much too soon, Bellatrix and the twins were in front of the first cottage. Bellatrix had pulled out her wand, pointing it at the door. With a twirl of her wrists, the door unlocked and opened itself, and Bellatrix entered, as though she owned the place. Not wanting to dither alone outside, Harry and Holly followed her in, feeling a sickness that tightened their throats, and made them feel like there were nifflers burrowing inside their guts. Not that the rodent-like nifflers were something the twins had ever seen - the Malfoys would never allow such destructive creatures in their home.

"Come out, come out!" Bellatrix sang gleefully, as she moved from room to room. However, though the cottage was clean, it had an air of disuse about it, that suggested that it might be currently unoccupied. And to the twin's great relief it was. The twins had noticed pictures on the bed stands and walls depicting a golden-blond family, wearing sunny smiles. Neither of them particularly relished the idea of seeing those smiles turn into expressions of anger when the muggles realized their home had been broken into, or fear, when Bellatrix did whatever she planned to do. Bellatrix and the Malfoys might speak of muggles as if they were less than animals, but even though the twins had suffered greatly at the hands of muggles, it was really confusing when, on the outside, muggles looked just like witches and wizards.

Bellatrix did not look at all disappointed that the cottage was empty. If anything, her predatory instincts had sharpened, and now, the sense of anticipation was building as she continued her hunt. They left the first cottage and made their way to the second one. Yet again, it was empty. By the time they were at the door of the third cottage, which, of all the bizarre things, was decorated with what looked like ceramic garden gnomes, Bellatrix was practically humming with excitement.

Harry and Holly felt like the squirming nifflers in their guts had died, and turned into rotting weighty lumps. They were both pale - almost greenish with anxiety, longing to flee, and yet feeling rooted to the spot. They thought they heard a sound - voices, perhaps, or footsteps behind the brightly-coloured door. The vibrancy of it all was too much - the pink and purple blooms in the window boxes, the patterned curtains that could be seen peeking behind the windows, the neat pathway up to the house that all but proclaimed 'welcome to our home!'

And then, in contrast to the brightness of the scene before them was Bellatrix. Bellatrix with her near-colourless skin, and her abundance of wild, dark hair and dark, dark eyes. Bellatrix with her elegant, flowing black robes, and her threatening, dangerous gracefulness. Bellatrix who looked like she could very well be Death's Consort, like an ominous black thundercloud over the sunny cheeriness of the happy cottage. She would have looked right at home amidst a swarm of dementors - those wraith-like evil creatures that drain away all joy and peace and gladness, leaving only soulless despair. And yet, she was also Bellatrix, the affectionate and protective mama of the the twins, and she had said there was nothing to worry about, right?

With a lazy twist of her wand, the lock turned open, and the sound seemed to echo in the twin's minds: _click, Click, CLICK. _Bellatrix pulled her eyes from the door and looked down at the twins, and she seemed to vibrate with hungry, unsuppressed anticipation. And yet, the look that she gave them was full of care, like the look a mother tiger would give to her her growing cubs.

"Pull out your wands," she told them, before flicking her wand at the door, causing it to open.

"What was that?" they heard a muffled sounding voice from within the house. "Darling, did you hear something?" The translation charm was still in effect, and it was somehow worse, being able to understand what those as of yet unseen people were saying.

"Someone at the front door?" another muffled voice answered. "Shall I go check?"

"No, no," the other voice answered, and even from the doorway, the twins could hear the affection and love in that voice. "Stay there, my ... You're pregnant after all."

There was the sound of tinkling laughter. "Being pregnant doesn't make me useless."

Then a soft humming murmur. "Let me spoil you. I want to. I'll go check the door."

The other voice sighed and sounded playfully reluctant. "Fine then, just leave me."

A yelping sound was then followed by giggles. "I could never leave you - not for anything."

Bellatrix, who had heard the entire exchange as clearly as the twins had smirked. "What a pretty little scene," she murmured, sounding disturbingly pleased. "The filthy muggles playing at _wuv_. Come with me babies. Your lesson for today will be how to deal with _vermin_."

Harry and Holly could not disobey the order in Bellatrix's voice. Walking on wooden legs, they followed her into the homey looking cottage, through an entryway that led to a cozy sitting room. The twin's eyes fell upon a young-ish looking couple, a friendly-faced dark-haired man, and an obviously pregnant dark-blonde woman, who had been nuzzling each other, but now, were staring at Bellatrix and the twins with their jaws dropped, and their eyes bulging in surprise.

"Watch closely, babies," Bellatrix said breathily, lustfully. With a figure-eight swirl of her wand, shadowing tendrils seemed to rise up from the rug beneath the couple's feet, wrapping tightly around their ankles and holding them in place.

"Who are you?" the man asked, a hint of anger in his voice. It was evident that he had no idea of the danger he was in.

"What is this?" The woman, who had tried to back away, was suddenly aware of the shadowy bindings around her ankles. She struggled to move, which only caused her to fall, rather awkwardly on her bum, causing her to wince in pain.

"Darling!" the man exclaimed, but now, he too was aware of the black shadows that held him in place, and with an ungraceful windmilling of his arms, he too had fallen.

"When you're in Hogwarts," Bellatrix explained as though lecturing the twins, "You might learn such spells such as the Full-Body Bind or the _Incarcerous_ spell which conjures ropes to tie a person up. But I find that this particular spell is much more satisfying. It allows a much better view."

"Mama?" Holly all but croaked, not even wanting to know what Bellatrix meant. Holly and Harry's eyes were glued onto the muggles, and the twins looked as sickly pale as the muggles did.

"What is going on?" the man asked. "What is this strange witchcraft? How did you get in here, and what have you done to us?"

Bellatrix continued, as if she had not heard the muggles. "We used to have such fun during the last war, the others and I. I had plenty of time to perfect this lovely little spell. It was disappointing, you see, when I couldn't see all the results of my torture. It's an art, my babies. An art to create the most exquisite pain upon muggle skin." She turned away from the muggles to look at the twins, but there was an unseeing, crazed blankness in her eyes. "It's important to do something fitting for their crime. It's important that they suffer for being what they are. They have to be punished for the filth they've inflicted from their very existence. They are _disgusting._"

"Let us go," the man demanded, but beneath his bravado, one could sense his fear. "Please. My wife is pregnant."

At that, Bellatrix broke into a maniacally toothy grin. "All the better," she said in her sing-song way that made the muggle couple visible shudder, as if now sharply aware of Bellatrix's insanity. "Best to destroy the vermin before it's born. Shall we start with that?"

The woman's eyes widened, and she began shaking her head and blubbering: "No - please, please, please, no, please!" At the same time, the man was crying out: "No! Not her! Take me, I beg you, take me!"

But the pleas only widened Bellatrix's sadistic grin, and with a slow downwards movement of her wand, a long, red gash appeared on the woman's pregnant belly. The woman began to shriek, with ear-splitting cries that felt like daggers that cut deeply into the twin's souls. They hadn't bothered to hold on to their wands. They had already dropped them, and squeezed their eyes tight, and covered their ears. But even though their eyes were closed, they still saw that first, creeping spread of red upon the woman's swollen stomach, and the image would be forever branded in their minds.

-o-

Bellatrix's torture of the muggles felt like it had lasted the span of a thousand lifetimes to Harry and Holly, but in truth, it hadn't taken more than a half-an-hour. In all likelihood, Bellatrix could have drawn it out for much, much longer, but she had been over-excited, and the muggles simply hadn't lasted that long.

Bellatrix had spent the entire half-hour transfixed on turning the muggles into shredded bits of bone and gore, and had not noticed the way that the twins had turned away, attempting to hide the sounds and the view from their not-quite-so-innocent hearts. The smell of blood and pain and excrement would have been overwhelming, but to protect her delicate nose, Bellatrix had made use of a spell to contain the sweetly sharp butcher-shop odors.

By the time Bellatrix was finished with the muggles, she was panting heavily, and her pupils were dilated. She looked as though she had just taken a dose of the sweetest, most intoxicating drug, or experienced the most mind-blowing orgasm fifty times consecutively. She had turned away from the remains of the muggles to look at the twins, but it was several minutes before she was aware that they were covering their eyes and ears, and had dropped their wands.

The pleasure remained in her system, but the vivid intensity of it was fading, and while it irritated her that the twins had not watched what she had been doing, she felt too good to be very upset with them.

"Pick up your wands, and look at it, my babies," she commanded, her voice low and husky. Their hands might be pressed tightly to their ears, but she knew that they heard. Whimpering with dread, both of them opened their eyes at the same time, and their eyes immediately fell upon the bloody scene before them. If the muggles were human once, it was impossible to tell, and even without the smell of blood and death, the twins sicked up, unable to hold the contents of their stomachs.

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix waved her wand and cleaned up the sour-smelling mess they had made. Both twins had looked away, tears making their green eyes glow, and neither made a move to touch their wands. The pleasure faded further, and Bellatrix's annoyance increased. Her nails dug into her palms, as she tried to remind herself that they were just babies, just babies. And just because they hadn't been able to watch her torture and dismember the muggles, it didn't mean that they were weak. It just mean that they had to learn to like it (and she was sure that they would. Dark Magic felt too seductively wonderful to resist for long.) And besides, she had _tasted_ and _felt_ that decadent Darkness within them, she reminded herself. She just had to find a way to draw it out, strengthen it.

"Babies," Bellatrix gritted out, trying to keep her tone light, but the twins tensed, sensing something in her voice. Their eyes remained stubbornly fixed to one of the far walls. Bellatrix had ingrained in them the notion that purebloods did not keep their heads down to the floor like cowed house-elves or any other creatures of service.

"Babies, look at me," Bellatrix ordered. Finally, those green eyes met her own. There was no anger or fear there - only shock and pain.

"I know it's difficult at first," Bellatrix crooned, her voice gentle now. This was a lie of course - Bellatrix didn't think there had ever been a time when she found it difficult to hate (and thus, want to hurt) muggles. But Bellatrix was also accustomed to dealing with those who had softer sensibilities - people like her gentle sister Cissy. And thus, Bellatrix was able to sooth the twins. She moved closer to them, pulling them both against her in a hug, and they flinched, only slightly, but she did not mind.

"Babies," she continued, as she began to stroke their hair. "I want you to stay here. I want you to stay and look upon that pile of filth that I've left because it is important for both of you to learn that that's what all muggles are, in the end. I'm going to go check the other houses, and you must stay here, and keep looking. I promise, I will know if you try and look away, but you wouldn't consider doing something like that, would you? No, my babies, I know you wouldn't because you're both so good. My sweetest, sweetest babies. Will you do that for me, babies?"

Neither Harry nor Holly answered, but they seemed to cling tighter against her robes.

"If you stay here, and promise not to take your eyes away from that pile of filth - if you stay and look at it closely - then I promise that when I come back, I'll put them all back together. Would you like that, babies?"

That seemed to have gotten the twin's attention. The pulled back a little, and a set of bright, wet green eyes peered up at her.

"You can put them back together?" Harry asked, sounding pitifully small.

Bellatrix smiled indulgently, as she carded her hands through his hair. "Of course, babies. Of course I can."

The only thing she didn't mention was that while she might be able to put their torn and broken bodies back together, they would still be completely and irrevocably dead.

-o-

Harry and Holly sat on the floor, pressed against the wall that was furthest from the bloody bits and pieces of the muggles. Bellatrix's magic held strong, and they could smell nothing from the bodies - only the homely woodsy scent of the cottage, and the scent of their own fear and dread. They had put their wands back in their pockets, and neither of them had any desire to touch the wands at the moment. Bellatrix had already left, checking the neighbouring cottages that faced the placid lake.

The twins were holding hands, their grip so tight that both their hands and arms were starting to feel numb, but neither of them dared to let go. They kept their eyes locked upon the sight in front of them, not daring to disobey Bellatrix's order, hoping, so desperately hoping that by doing so, they could put everything to rights.

Neither of them spoke a word. What they could they possibly say? They could already feel each other's feelings, and their feelings were the same - shock, horror, terror and a confused sense of guilt. Neither Harry nor Holly could tell what they were guilty about. Did they feel guilt because they had not stopped Bellatrix from torturing and killing the two muggles? Or was the guilt due to the fact that they had not enjoyed the torture, like Bellatrix hoped that they would? Or worse, were they feeling guilty because now, some small part of them was aware that they were actually _afraid_ of Bellatrix, of their beloved savour?

All they knew for certain was that they were _bad_. Both of them were so very, very _bad_, just as their muggle relatives had always said the were_._ Bellatrix might claim otherwise. Bellatrix might comfort them and pet them, and say that they were _good_, but in their hearts, they could not believe it. The guilt they felt told them otherwise. They had let the muggles suffer and die. Thus they were _bad_. They had not enjoyed the muggle's torment like Bellatrix had hoped. Thus they were _bad_. They were afraid of their own mama. Thus they were definitely _bad_, and something was most certainly _wrong_ with them_._ The least that they could do then, was stare at the mess of gore and offal before them. They had to redeem themselves somehow.

Both Harry and Holly lost sense of time, but it was blessedly dark by the time Bellatrix had returned. The darkness meant that neither of them were able to see the reddish, brownish and white bits scattered in chunks in front of them. On some level, they felt guilty about their relief, but still, their eyes remained pinned to that spot, and their numb hands remained clasped.

Bellatrix's arrival was heralded by the bright, unearthly blue-white glow of a magical light, as well as her sing-sing call.

"Babies! Supper time!" It sounded so mundane, so ordinary, that Harry and Holly found themselves wondering if this had all been some sort of twisted nightmarish dream. Was this the moment of their waking? But then, Bellatrix entered the room, and as the light fell upon the scene of horror before them, they knew that it was no dream.

"Ah! Have you two been good?" Despite the harsh blue-white light, Bellatrix somehow looked especially beautiful, and especially healthy. She radiated with an irrepressible inner joy and wonderment - the sort of intoxicating and seductive happiness-equivalent that only the Dark Arts could bring. At any other time, the twins would have been completely enchanted by their mama. At any other time, they would have felt an overflowing gratitude to know that they belonged to _her_, and that she was the one who loved and cared for them.

But at the moment, they felt only a roiling sickness, a disgust aimed largely at themselves.

"We have done as you asked, mama," Holly informed her, her voice small but steady.

"Will you put them back together now?" Harry questioned, his voice just as small, and just as steady and determined.

Bellatrix peeled her eyes from the twins, and looked upon the bloody mess, as though aware of it for the first time. She turned her gaze back to the twins, and a sweet and warm smile spread across her face, so terribly incongruous with the sight that lay before them.

"Of course, my babies," she replied indulgently, and with a spiraling movement of her wand, the solid chunks and liquid remains of the two bodies lifted up into the air, and like three-dimensional puzzle pieces, they flew into their proper places, bones and marrow first, followed by organs and muscles and fat and then skin. All the while, the blood seemed to vapourize in a red mist, flying towards the bodies like it was drawn in by a magnetic force. Soon, the two bodies looked as whole and untouched as ever, floating in the air with their eyes closed, as though sleeping. With another looping flick, their torn clothes reformed on their bodies.

"Let's put them to bed, shall we?" Bellatrix said to the twins, cheerfully. The twins eyes were wide with amazement. They looked at Bellatrix as though she were a goddess, gracing the earth with her exalted presence, and nodded in agreement. The muggle bodies were levitated in front of Bellatrix, and when they reached the bedroom, the sheets were magically pulled aside, and the muggle placed together in a sweet looking cuddle that suggested domestic bliss. Once they were in place, the blankets covered their bodies.

For Harry and Holly, seeing the couple in bed felt strangely intrusive. They looked so peaceful there, and the twins thought it would be a shame to wake them. They edged closer to Bellatrix, wanting to capture the mood that spoke of things like 'families' and 'love.'

"Will they remember any of this?" Holly asked in a hushed voice. Harry's eyes held the same question.

Bellatrix smirked, unable to help but feel amused. It was so sweet, how innocent her babies were. A part of her was tempted to let them remain in their charmed and sheltered little bubbles forever, because as much as she thought it was a flaw and a weakness, she could not deny that the twins were so very, very cute. But it would be better yet to stain them with Darkness early on, rather than to let their innocence weaken them further. Bellatrix had a feeling that such a thing would please the Dark Lord.

"They won't remember a thing, my babies" Bellatrix answered serenely. Harry and Holly sighed with relief. But Bellatrix wasn't finished. "They won't remember because they're dead."

Bellatrix might have found their innocence to be adorable, but upon seeing the twin's stricken expressions, irritation quickly rose within her.

"This is a happy occasion," Bellatrix snapped at them. "Do you know why?"

Harry and Holly recoiled in the face of her ire, terrified and dismayed to have displeased their mama, but also aghast to have learned that the loving-looking couple that they believed were alive were in fact dead.

"Well? Do you?" Bellatrix demanded.

It was Harry who eventually answered, his voice wooden. "Because we have rid the world of vermin."

"Because we have cleansed the world of filth," Holly added, sounded just as flat.

And just as quickly as it came, Bellatrix's anger vanished, and she smiled, pleased with the twins.

"Very good. Come along then. It's time we eat." And with that, Bellatrix brushed past them, heading towards the cottage's kitchen, both to serve the twin's food, and to gather all the rations that she could fit into her magic trunk for the next part of their journey.

Rather than staying and sleeping in any of the cottages, which were far too rough and simple for Bellatrix's tastes, she opted to set up the wizarding tent a small ways away, right by the lake front.

"Gris Malmangeur has been here," she commented, staring down at a spot very near the cottages. "I can _taste_ his territorial marker." There was an expression of disgust on her face as she said this, but while the twins had often been curious about Gris Malmangeur in the past, they were too numb and miserable at the moment to ask any questions.

Harry and Holly were uncertain if they would be able to sleep that night. Perhaps they might have feared nightmares, except for the fact that their memories were as bad, if not worse than anything that could haunt them in their dreams. Neither of them wanted to be close to Bellatrix. It felt horribly treacherous, and it made them hate themselves (because it still hurt far, far too much to consider hating _her._) And yet, their feelings were so confused, and so hurt and on some level, they both felt deeply betrayed.

They had assumed that when Bellatrix said that she could put the muggles back together, that it meant bringing them back to life. They recognized now that Bellatrix had said no such thing - in fact, Bellatrix had technically been completely truthful. Yet, she had raised their hopes, and they had endured hours of sitting and staring at that ghastly scene. And for what? For nothing.

Holly and Harry found themselves in the room of the tent that showed the Malfoy manor's south garden. They had avoided this room for all these weeks, but now, the familiar landscape was what they needed to see, to provide some measure of comfort to the screams of their souls and the cries in of their hearts. Though they had not heard from Draco, they both thought of him - of the fun they used to have, and of the laughter and joy they took in one another's company. They thought of how safe they used to feel back in those days, when mornings and early afternoons were reserved for lessons, and evenings were all about play. Harry and Holly could not help but feel an intense wave of homesickness, as they longed for those days to return. Instead of sleeping with Bellatrix that night, they fell asleep before the enchanted window, into the comforting arms of black oblivion.

-o-

In the days that followed, Harry and Holly were both withdrawn and distant from Bellatrix. Their lessons continued, and they both acted as diligently and as well behaved as ever, but a coolness had settled over their relationship with their mama. The twins took solace in each other, and in the sweet nature of Hamal, their hitzetier, who seemed to have somehow picked up on their mood, and would gently nudge at their hands for more pets and caresses than ever.

Bellatrix did not comment on their behaviour. The twins were not certain if she had noticed - perhaps she was too intent on her mission of finding the mysterious being that was Gris Malmangeur, or perhaps she understood their need for space so that they could try to process their emotions. And yet, she had to have been aware of something - they were no longer cuddled up with her in her bed at night, and they were no longer asking her the curious questions that they once did. Did she not care? Were their feelings and concerns unimportant to her? Didn't she understand?

The questions that whirled around in Harry and Holly's mind only made them feel worse. They were only six (soon to be seven in a few months). It wasn't enough to only have a pet ram and each other for comfort. They needed an adult in their lives - a parent - who could provide guidance and care because as intelligent as they might be, they were still only children. Could it be that Bellatrix did not love them anymore? Was her disappointment in them so great that they had lost her affections? Perhaps she no longer wanted them, and it was only a matter of time before she would tell them so. And worst yet were the emerging dreams, starting off with the dead couple, but then transforming so that the bodies had Bellatrix's face. The dreams filled both the twin's hearts with a terrible cold dread.

It was only three days after they left the cottages that the twins were thinking they ought to consider apologizing to Bellatrix. They needed the sense of security and affection that she provided. Perhaps if they were older, and a little more independent, their impulse would have been to push her away, but they were both so young, and neither were ready (or able) to face the world on their own. Three days of stilted exchanges and three nights of sleeping without her and being plagued by dreams of losing her were becoming unbearable. Hearing the muggles tortured and killed, and seeing their broken remains was beyond disturbing, but each moment estranged from their mama was painfully heartbreaking.

That evening, the twins were in the room of the tent with the window showing the Malfoy's south garden. They were sitting side by side, watching the albino peacocks making their way across the perfectly even lawn.

"Should we do it now?" Holly asked her brother, even though she already knew his feelings.

"Better now than later," Harry affirmed. And so, the two of them crept into the room that they had previously shared with Bellatrix. The silk curtain that was the doorway to the bedroom was closed.

"Mama?" the twins called out hesitantly, but there was no answer. They shared a look, uncertain of whether or not they should intrude. Did she not want to see them? Or perhaps she had not heard them.

"Mama?" This time, the spoke a bit louder, but there was still no reply. Tilting up their chins, and lifting their small chests in a gesture of courage, they pulled aside the curtain and entered the dark room. They could see Bellatrix lying on the immense bed, and as they crept closer to the bed, they saw that she was asleep. Harry and Holly felt a mix of relief mingled with disappointment. Relief that she had not been ignoring them after all; disappointment because they had wanted her affection and forgiveness, and now they would have to wait.

Neither of them quite dared to climb into bed with her, as much as they longed to. But neither of them wanted to leave as well. Instead, they curled up on the rug at the foot of the bed, like two lost puppies. To Harry and Holly, it was close enough.

They had scarcely closed their eyes for a moment when the twins suddenly heard an unusual sound. They opened their eyes at the same time, and peered out the window, noticing nothing but the black tops of the trees spearing the blue-black sky, dotted with pale stars. The sound came again - a high-pitched cackling laughter that had them immediately sitting up, bright with curious wonderment. It was such a delightfully amusing sound, and twin's eyes met, as they both broke into wide grins. They tilted their heads, curious to know if the laughter would return. There! Again!

Harry and Holly giggled, as they crawled towards the wall of the tent, pressing their ears against the silk fabric. The gleeful cackling sounded farther away this time, and for some reason, this disappointed the twins. They wanted to hear _more_. They sneaked out of the bedroom, towards the sitting room and to the entrance of the tent. Pulling it open a crack, they poked their heads out. The cool night air chilled their skin, and they could hear the chirping of frogs and the rustling sound of the wind through the leaves. Both of them strained their ears, hoping to hear that captivating sound once again. Finally, they were rewarded when it came, so clear as the laughter cut through the night air, dancing over the wind.

The almost musical cackle seemed to make all their worries melt away. It was like sugary sweetness to their ears, like the sight of unwrapped presents on their birthday, or a merry fire waiting for them on the coldest of winter days. It was like a promise of good things to come, a sound of wonderful anticipation, calling and beckoning. Without a second thought, the twins had left the tent, not even bothering with shoes, as they followed the sound, deeper and deeper into the black shadows of the woods.

They barely noted the crispness of the air that caused goosebumps to rise on their skin, or the sharpness of the stones and sticks and plants beneath their feet. They paid no heed to the branches that scratched their robes and faces, and pulled at their hair. No thought was given to the predators that might lurk in the night, all too happy to feast on a pair of unguarded young children. If not for the fact that their wands happened to be in their pockets, they would have been completely defenceless, and if not for the fact of their twin bond, they wouldn't have even been holding hands, but they were, and though it made walking through the woods more difficult, at no point did they let go.

Neither Holly nor Harry cared about what direction they were walking in. All that mattered was reaching that sweet laughter, that wondrous sound, and they knew that they were getting close. Interspersed with the laughter was the sound of high-pitched, raspy sounding voices that spoke in a sing-song kind of manner, much like Bellatrix often did.

"Closer, come closer children." The cackles that sounded so far seemed to now surround them.

"Come here, delicious little children." More cackles, and though the words were strange, Harry and Holly could not resist.

"Where are you?" Holly called out longingly.

"We want to see you," Harry beseeched.

"Closer, come closer, tasty little children." The voices sounded even nearer, and the entrancing cackles even louder. The twins could hear the snapping of twigs, the tramp of small footfalls. The feeling of anticipation only increased.

From the shadowy darkness, came skinny, hunched little creatures with pointed, menacing faces, and as the sound of laughter surrounded them, the creatures leapt forward, and Holly and Harry shrieked in terror and agony as they felt jagged teeth digging into their arms, and legs. Harry's instincts took over, and a howl escaped his lips as he began to claw and bite at the creatures, with only one thought in mind: 'Protect Holly.' He snarled and yelled, swinging his arms and kicking his legs, but the swarm of creatures felt endless. It became too much. He tried to guard Holly with his body, not fearing for himself, but he knew he wouldn't last. Soon, their minds blanked out in animalistic panic, and at once, Harry's accidental defencive magic came into force. The twins vanished from the ground, and popped back into existence on the thick branches of a nearby tree, barely able to keep their balance, though they were pressed near the trunk. And yet, it was not enough. The creatures were hungry and determined, and though vast majority of them were left on the ground, three still clung stubbornly to the twins by their teeth - one on Holly's arm and thigh, and one on Harry's shin, biting so deeply that the twins swore that they could feel teeth scraping their bones, and feel hot blood gushing down their limbs.

Worst yet, the rest of the creatures were scrambling up the tree, tearing and fighting each other as they attempted to be the first to make up to those branches where a delicious feast awaited them. The twins kept their grip on one another, using their other hands to try and fling the biting creatures off, screaming from a mix of pain and panic. They could feel Holly's magic building, and building, like electric eels beneath her skin, and when it finally whipped out of her, it ripped through the creatures with such violence that their jaws were sheared apart, hot blood splattering their skin, and the jagged halves of their heads fell away, subject to the force of gravity (and why oh why was it so easy to just _kill_ these creatures? The twins had never found it easy to kill before...)

But all that they had succeeded in doing was removing the pointy, threatening creatures that had bitten them, and now, the twins were bleeding freely, driving the frenzy of the voracious little monsters below them. Scrambling and fighting on the trunk were more - so many, many more of them, their faces filled with ravenous, slavering hunger, and there was nowhere for Holly or Harry to go. The twins screamed and yelled, and kicked their feet, barely able to avoid the razor-edges of teeth, while the creatures mocked and laughed, so that all the twins could hear were the words 'tasty,' and 'delicious,' and 'yummy,' and 'treats.' Unintentional, wandless magic had only ever saved them once - they were drained, and neither of them expected any more miraculous acts tonight. They clung to one another, wildly flinging and throwing their legs, and the shift in their movements finally made them aware of the poking wands in their pockets.

Hope suddenly renewed within them. At the same time, they pulled out their wands, and with a violent forward jab, they let their magic loose, heedless of the slick oiliness, unaware of the pain ripping through their own bodies as their skin tore and bruised. All that mattered was the removal of the threat, and with a deafening BANG, there was an enormous blast that caused a ringing in their ears, while the cackling, chittering creatures blasted apart into messy, bloody (and very dead) pieces, scattered in a wide radius. Unfortunately for the twins, not only had they blasted apart the swarm of creatures, but they had also destroyed a large chunk of the tree trunk, and with a jarring crack, they felt the tree as it began to tip over, the ground coming ever closer and closer.

Neither of them gave a thought to the light drawing nearer to them - all they were aware of was their loss of balance, of the way they desperately clung to the tree which was bringing them perilously closer and closer to the ground. All they wanted was each other's safety, and to be in their mama's arms yet again, protected and loved. Why, oh why did they have to disappoint her? Why did they have to distance themselves from her? If not for that, they'd be safe, lying together in their large bed, cuddling together like a happy family. Harry and Holly could not help but think that if they got out of this alive that they would never question Bellatrix again - that they would trust that she knew best, because she had never truly hurt them, and had only ever wanted to help them.

A familiar voice, filled with terrible urgency shrieked: "Babies!" And the twins had finally lost their grip and were falling, falling, but then there was a sensation of weightlessness, and when they finally hit the ground, the sensation was so light that it was like falling into a bed of leaves. And then, a familiar scent hit them, and arms and a cloud of hair were around them, and they could hear their mama babbling: "Babies, my babies, my sweet, darling babies!" And all the twins could do was cling to her like limpets, wailing out: "mama!"

With a crack of apparition, the twins were startled out of their sobbing relief by the horrible feeling of being compressed, and a second later, they were all back in the familiar comfort of their tent. Bellatrix murmured soothing words of love and comfort as she laid the twins upon the bed, checking their still-bleeding wounds. Healing magic was not one of her strengths, so it was fortunate that Narcissa had had the foresight to remind Bellatrix to pack a full supply of a large variety of healing potions. Once the twins were reasonable settled, Bellatrix scrambled to the trunk, searching out what she needed.

Opening the phials with frantic impatience, she gave doses to each of the twins, and watched as their wounds sealed up, without even leaving a scar. The twins, who had been feeling an intense, needling itchiness in the limbs, on top of the piercing pain of their throbbing wounds, sighed with relief. Even the bruises faded, though many of them still remained.

"We're sorry, mama," the twins murmured tiredly, now that the adrenalin was finally wearing off. They wanted to say more - to say that they would always obey her, or that they trusted that she knew best, or even that they were grateful for her, but the weight of their tiredness was too immense, and their eyelids were too heavy, and without being able to utter another word, the pair of them drifted off to sleep, not noticing the pained and desperate expression that looked so close to love painted ever so clearly upon Bellatrix's face.

-o-

Harry and Holly woke up to the familiar warmth and scent of their mama, and without even opening their eyes, they cuddled closer, wanting to remain enveloped in the fuzzy, comfortable happiness they felt. There was something mildly troubling lingering in the corners of their consciousness but they were not ready to face it yet.

But whether they were ready or not, awareness pulled at them, and the memories came tumbling forth: memories of hunched little creatures with scrawny bodies, pointed faces and jagged teeth. Fear and surprise caused them both to tense and cling closer to Bellatrix who groaned restlessly, and mumbled something incoherent. The twins reached for each other's hands, clasping tightly and drawing comfort in their familiarity and aliveness.

So many emotions flooded them. The greatest of all was the feeling of relief. Of course, they were glad to be alive, but more than that, they were so very, very glad that Bellatrix had come for them. After the past few days, neither Harry nor Holly were certain that Bellatrix still cared for them. They felt that they had failed her - that they had proven themselves too weak to be worthy of her regard, and the fact that she had come for them showed them that she still cared. Though they had been with her for two years, and she had never given them reason to think that she would abandon them, the fear still remained. When they had lived with the muggles, they had been constantly reminded of how unwanted they were, through both words and actions. The belief of being unlovable was something that resided deep in their consciousness - a belief they had yet to break free of.

But just because Bellatrix had come for them, it did not mean that they had her approval. She had showed them that she cared, but the twins wanted more. They wanted her to be proud of them. Fortunately, the flame of hope still burned in their hearts, and they felt that there was still time for them to prove themselves to their mama. Just because they could not endure the torture last time, it wouldn't mean that the situation would be the same next time. Harry and Holly would simply have to prove themselves stronger and better than before.

Having come to that resolution, the twins found themselves feeling a bit better, and by the time Bellatrix woke, they were both calm.

"Babies," Bellatrix greeted, her voice sounding gritty from sleep. She attempted to peel her eyes open, but it felt like too much of an effort, and she groaned, rolling over so that she could block out the light with her pillow Bellatrix had never really been a morning person. "I had the most curious dream." Her words were muffled by the pillow, and the twins shared a look.

"Dream?"

"I dreamed that the two of you were nearly eaten by erklings, but then you blew them apart into itty bitty ickle bits and fell out of a tree."

"Erklings?"

Bellatrix moaned, as though the conversation was far too much effort, this early in the morning. "Those pointy things. You know. Short. Hunched. Ghastly, elfish-looking creatures. Creepy laugh. Eat children."

The twins shared another speaking look, though this time, their eyes were alight with amusement. It was funny that Bellatrix would think that another creature would have a creepy laugh, when she herself often laughed in a way that clearly unnerved others. Though the twins adored Bellatrix, even they weren't immune to her sometimes-maniacal cackles.

They were both intrigued to learn that they were attacked by creatures called erklings. They knew about the more common types of magical creatures, such as dragons, unicorns, trolls, griffins and the like, but they had never heard of erklings until now. They couldn't help the shiver that swept down their spines as they contemplated the disturbing notion of being eaten. It was a good thing they happened to remember to use their wands.

When Bellatrix was eventually fully awake, she seemed as pleased as the twins that their relationship was back to normal. Of course, she also realized that the incident with the erklings was no dream, and if they weren't all dead, she would have stalked back out into the woods with nothing but her wand and her rage, and she would have killed them all (after torturing them first, naturally.) Beyond that, Bellatrix was aglow with pride, simply because of the fact that the twins had both _killed_. True, they had killed insects before, but erklings were such an immense step up from insects. After all, erklings spoke. In human words. Erklings had faces. And hands. And humanoid bodies. And Bellatrix could not help but think that if the twins could kill erklings, then it wouldn't be long before they were killing muggles.

A few days after the erkling incident, Bellatrix and the twins were travelling again. Bellatrix had a book floating in front of her, and she was reading out loud to the twins about the theory of protective enchantments. The material was far beyond their skill level - after all this time, Bellatrix still did not have a good sense of the type of lessons that were appropriate for six year olds, and this was only made worse by the lack of Narcissa's gentle manipulations. Regardless, the twins absorbed the information to the best of their ability, and asked the appropriate questions to clarify concepts (though most of their questions related to the meaning of certain words.)

Harry was absently scratching Hamal between his bronze horns when he looked up and spotted a familiar eagle owl.

"Look!" he pointed out, disrupting Bellatrix's reading. "An owl! D'you think it's from Draco?" Holly's face lit up with anticipation. But instead of dropping a letter upon Harry or Holly's laps, the majestic owl landed on Bellatrix's outstretched arm, and handed her the folded parchment. Harry and Holly's faces fell in disappointment, but they still looked towards Bellatrix with hopeful expressions. Any news of home was better than no news at all.

Bellatrix lifted her arm, in a gesture that indicated that she was done with the owl. It never would have occurred to her to thank the creature, and she had no treats readily at hand, but the owl did not nip at her, or scratch her with its talons in disappointment. Creatures that irritated or angered Bellatrix had a habit of turning up dead (or if not dead, then at least maimed.)

Holly and Harry's eyes never left Bellatrix as she split the seal and opened the letter. As Bellatrix read the words written in Narcissa's curved and graceful penmanship, a smirk of amusement pulled her lips into curl, and her eyes glittered with a bright sort of glee. Bellatrix chortled as she took in Narcissa's message, and the twins thought they heard her say something like: "why, Cissy! I didn't know you had it in you" before laughing once again.

"Mama?" Holly asked. The twins were desperate to hear any word from Malfoy manor.

Bellatrix looked away from the letter towards the twins, her face still bright with good humour and delight.

"What does the letter say?" Harry asked. "Did Draco - ?" Harry trailed off, but Bellatrix understood the question well enough.

"Oh, it's just Cissy," Bellatrix replied airily, with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "Such a dear, but she worries far too much, the silly girl. As if I can't take care of myself - she very well knows that I can!"

Harry and Holly shared a look. It was difficult to think of the regal and icy Narcissa as being a 'silly girl' and the twins would have wondered if she were talking about someone else entirely, except that they had heard Bellatrix reference her sister that way before.

"Draco?" Harry prodded, trying to get Bellatrix's mind back on track.

"Hm? Oh, the little dragon?" Bellatrix made another indifferent gesture. "Forget about him. He isn't important."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, dissatisfied with Bellatrix's comment.

"We want to know why Draco hasn't written us," Holly added, sounding just as stubborn.

Bellatrix blinked, looking at the twins as though she wasn't entirely sure what to make of their outburst. "Do you care for that sniveling little boy so much?" Bellatrix sounded genuinely perplexed.

"He's not a sniveling little boy!" Harry defended hotly.

"He's our best friend!"

Bellatrix knit her brows and pouted her lips as she contemplated the twins words. "I suppose I understand the need to cultivate powerful and influential connections but babies - you're already connected to the Malfoys. Draco is my _darling_ -" ('darling' was said mockingly), "- nephew meaning he is your cousin by blood. You don't have to _pretend_ to like him. Only consider Lucius. I can hardly stand the man, he's so rigid. Any stiffer and he could quit his hobby as a political dilettante and take up a career as a his own walking stick. But whether I like him or not, we stand by one another against all others because we're -" (Bellatrix scrunched up her nose in disgust) "- family. It really is a shame that Draco takes after Lucius so very much."

Holly and Harry considered her words. They had never given too much thought to Draco's behaviour (beyond finding him a likeable friend), but it was true that Draco spoke of his father as though the man was his personal god. As much as Draco adored his mother, it was his father that he sought to emulate.

"Why do you hate Uncle Lucius?" Harry wondered. It was true that Lucius Malfoy was a rather stiff and cold person, but the same could be said of Narcissa (or at least, that was the facade that she projected) and yet Bellatrix clearly loved her sister.

"Why do I hate dear Lucy?" Bellatrix laughed coldly. "Oh babies, there are more reasons than there are stars in the sky. But only one reason is truly important. I hate him because he is _weak_. I hate him because he is _cowardly_. When the Dark Lord disappeared after trying to kill the two of you -" (Bellatrix never made it a secret and spoke of it so matter-of-factly that the twins did not even bat an eye at the statement, for the whole notion seemed so abstract) "- Lucius evaded Azkaban by claiming that he was acting under the _imperius_ curse. I've taught you about that one, haven't I babies?"

"Yes, mama," Holly answered. "That's the curse that puts other people under your control and you can make them do whatever you want."

Bellatrix beamed. "Very good!" Her smile soon faded as she continued her explanation. "Yes, well, Lucy dear claimed to be under the _imperius_ curse, rather than standing by the Dark Lord's convictions. He may claim to be loyal and devoted to the Dark Lord's cause, but when it comes to facing any threats to his own skin, Lucius is ready enough to throw his own beliefs atop a burning pyre. Perhaps -" Bellatrix's expression became thoughtful. "Perhaps he could have been forgiven for his actions, had he used his time and freedom to go seek out and find the Dark Lord. But did he do that? _No._ He didn't. Instead, he hid out in his countryside estate, going to _parties_ and making _friends_ and dabbling around with inconsequential policies, raising his little heir to be just. Like. Him." Bellatrix's tone of voice had become venomous, and her eyes flashed dangerously.

Lucius had done that? No wonder Bellatrix treated him with such animosity. Still, Harry and Holly felt the need to defend their friend. "But Draco never did any of those things," Harry pointed out.

"And Draco really _isn't_ like Lucius." Draco was his own person, true enough, but Holly was still glad he wasn't here to hear those words. It would have only hurt Draco's feelings.

Bellatrix's expression had become suspicious. "What is this about, babies? What has that little dragon done to earn such a fierce defence?"

"Draco is our friend," Harry repeated.

"Friend?" Bellatrix echoed, her eyes blank. But then, comprehension seem to finally settle in and she blinked. "Ah, this is because he's the only playmate you've ever had, isn't it? I forget how young you two are." This wasn't strictly true. It wasn't that Bellatrix ever forgot that the twins were young. Rather, it was more that Bellatrix had been so vastly different as a child, so much darker and crueler and wilder that she could not really understand the twin's hearts and minds.

"Don't worry, babies. You'll forget him soon enough - especially once we find the Dark Lord. And besides -" Bellatrix made another airy gesture. "He has forgotten you."

"What?" Holly and Harry gaped at Bellatrix, wondering if they had misheard.

"Hm?" Bellatrix acted as though she had not heard the question. Instead, she folded away the letter, tucking it into her robe pocket, and she began to read out loud from the book again, continuing their lessons.

But Harry and Holly would have none of it. "Mama!" Holly demanded.

"Tell us what you mean! Why would you say Draco's forgotten us?"

Bellatrix sighed, as though the question was too ridiculous to waste any time or effort on. "I mean just that. Widdle Dwaco had forgotten all about you." She sounded almost taunting as she said it.

Harry and Holly felt the blood leaving their face. It couldn't be true, could it? How could Draco have forgotten them? After playing together every day for two years, could they have truly escaped his memory? Did he care for them so little?

"Oh yes," Bellatrix continued, her voice taking on a slight sing-song quality. "He has forgotten everything." She laughed, mockingly. "Forgotten all those games out on the lawn, and all those flights on your little brooms, and all the places that you used to hide together in the manor. Malfoys always were of bad faith after all, and it's foolish to ever trust them." Bellatrix's voice had become cold now. "Remember that well. Never trust a Malfoy. Never trust anyone but yourselves, the Dark Lord and me."

-o-

As one month slid into the next, a familiar pattern in their lives emerged. Just like at Malfoy manor, mornings and early afternoons were reserved for lessons, while the twins had their late afternoons and evenings to themselves. For the longest time, the twins had been withdrawn and morose. They felt the pain of Draco's absence and abandonment like that of an old wound, newly opened. But at the same time, they were both still children, and it was hard to stay on their hitzetier's back all day. They fidgeted restlessly, agitating Bellatrix with their sighs and occasional bouts of repetitive questions ("are we there yet?")

It was then that Bellatrix seized upon what she felt would be the perfect solution. After the erkling incident, she was sure that it was a sign that the twin's magic was maturing and growing. What better way was there to work off the twin's energy than to practice the art or killing? Of course, to Bellatrix, the ideal sort of killing involved muggles, and what better sport could there be than muggle hunting? Unfortunately, muggle hunting was not at all practical (not to mention the issues of legality), and though Bellatrix was not always very perceptive, she was aware enough to know that the twins were not ready to kill muggles. So, instead, she decided that Harry and Holly would have to learn ordinary hunting. Not only could the twins hone their killer instincts, but it would take care of their food rations problem. Bellatrix could see no faults in her plan at all.

So, one afternoon, after their lessons were done, Bellatrix made the announcement. "Babies! I have a surprise for you!" She spoke in a bright sing-song manner. "This is going to be so much fun! The two of you are going to learn some new skills! You remember what it was like the last time we were running low on food don't you?" Her face scrunched up with distaste. "Having to make use of muggle supplies." She shuddered. "How distasteful." The twins had their own reasons for shuddering, completely separate from Bellatrix's reasons.

"Well," she continued brightly. "The two of you are going to learn how to hunt! You have such energy! Like little crups, you are." She was referring to a type of wizarding dog. "I'm going to cast a spell on you - a tethering spell so that you can find your way back to me. If anything dangerous is out there, the tether will let me find you immediately. Now, off you go! Magic will take care of the rest."

And with that, Bellatrix flicked her wand in a bow-tie pattern and a pale shimmering thread appeared to flow between Bellatrix and the twins. When they tried to touch it, their hands passed straight through the thread, but they felt a faint tingle around their ribs and it made them immediately conscious of Bellatrix's location. She motioned for the twins to dismount from Hamal's back, and she made a gesture to shoo them off.

Harry and Holly looked at one another, their brows furrowed, but they obeyed Bellatrix and climbed off Hamal. "What are we supposed to do?" Holly questioned.

Bellatrix sighed as though the answer was painfully obvious. "First, you find something." Bellatrix spoke with an exaggerated slowness that had the twins hackles rising. "Then you kill it. Then you come back to me, yes?"

"Erm - okay, mama," Harry replied, sounding not-at-all certain. But it was clear that Bellatrix had nothing more to add. So, the twins took each other's hands, and ventured into the thicket, trusting that the tether spell would keep them safe.

Being in the woods on their own was an unusual experience. They had spent their earliest years shoved in a cupboard. Then they had lived in luxury at the Malfoy manor. And after that, they spent most of their time on Hamal's back, following Bellatrix. Perhaps they should have been afraid of being left alone in such an unfamiliar setting, but the twins trusted Bellatrix, and they explored the forest with open curiosity.

On their first evening of 'hunting,' the twins failed to find anything at all. They heard creatures rustling in the bushes, and occasionally caught sight of birds, but the noisiness of their footsteps scared everything away. They were unsure of whether or not to return to Bellatrix - after all, they had nothing to show for their day of wandering, other than weary limbs and tired eyes. Both of them hesitated at the entrance of the tent, wondering whether or not Bellatrix would be disappointed in them. To their relief, Bellatrix had simply shrugged and said: "next time, my babies." If anything, she was just glad to have a break from the twin's restless energy, so she could focus on her research related to seeking out the Dark Lord.

After the first week, the twins finally learned how to silence their steps, both with the aid of a light touch of magic, but also, due to gaining a greater awareness of their surroundings, and their bodies. The only thing they had managed to catch was a bird, which they had accidently stunned in a moment of startlement, causing it to crash into a tree. Despite their 'failure' at hunting, a sense of peace was settling over Harry and Holly. They felt a bit guilty, but there was something nice about being away from their mama. Here, amidst the bracken, they could forget everything but their senses. The twins liked to pretend that they weren't children at all, but instead, were a pair of nundus, which was a magical leopard-like creature - one of the deadliest in existence. Curiously enough, their imaginary play-acting seemed to channel their inner grace, and they moved with greater stealth, sticking to the shadows, aware of every sound.

In their second week, their skills continued to improve, but the only kill they made was once again accidental. They had frightened a flock of birds from a tree, and another stunning spell had caused one of the birds to fall from the sky and break its neck. It was in their third week that they had their first real kill. They had spotted numerous birds, rabbits, squirrels and even dormice in the past few days, but despite their silence, the animals' reflexes were fast enough to dodge their spells.

"We need a plan," Harry huffed, after yet another hare had escaped. "We're just not quick enough, and the killing spell is hard to do quickly."

"Maybe we should split up," Holly suggested. "It might be easier to trap something that way. As long as we keep each other in sight. Plus, I think I can sense you, even if we aren't touching. We didn't used to be able to do that before."

"Oh! I've noticed that too, but I wasn't too sure. I don't feel it strongly, but I still know where you are."

"Me too. Even when you're being silent." The twins shared a pleased smile. It was yet another way that they felt that they were somehow progressing. True, they weren't any good as hunters (yet) but they were getting somewhere.

Thus decided, they parted from one another, and slipped into the shadows of the trees. Both of them had their wands in hand, ignoring the warm oiliness and the faint itching, paying attention to their senses instead. Harry peered over at his sister, making sure that she was still in sight. It was strange, not being able to hear her at all. But it was true that he could feel her familiar magic, reassuring him of her presence. He hadn't noticed it when they stayed close, but now that they were at a distance, she appeared to fade into the shadows like a silent wraith. Was that the result of their magic as well? Through Bellatrix's teaching methods, they getting better and better at shaping the wild, chaotic magic within them to their will. They might not have caught any prey yet, but they were rapidly learning the art of stealth.

As Harry moved silently through the bracken, he caught sight of something brown moving in the corner of his eyes. He threw out a spell, hoping to stun the creature, but hissed with annoyance when he missed. Stunning spells or immobilization spells felt a lot easier than killing spells, but he still wasn't fast enough. Some corner of his mind was aware that Holly was running towards him, but most of Harry's attention was fixed on his prey. He was determined to chase it down. He leapt over a fallen log, dashing between trees and cast another spell. The creature, which turned out to be a rabbit, leapt away from him towards Holly's direction.

He could see the coloured light and feel the swell of magic as Holly cast her own silent spell, but the hare twisted away at the last moment, barely escaping the spell. Yet, Holly's presence was herding the hare back towards him. It was on an intersect path, bounding closer and closer. He waited until he was sure he wouldn't miss and with a quick slash of his wand, the rabbit squealed, and flopped over. Harry was filled with a bright feeling of triumph, resonating between him and his twin. The pair of them were panting as they dashed towards the fallen creature, wearing identical grins. It wasn't dead - Harry had only managed to use the cutting spell on its legs so it could no longer run. But the feeling of elation was quickly fading and the sight of the animal suffering filled Harry with a sudden flood of guilt. What had he done?

Harry looked up at Holly, who had come upon the hare at the same time. "I -" he began, intending to explain himself, but the words died when he saw Holly's expression and became aware of her magic.

There was something strange in the air around them. Holly's familiar magic was there, but there was something else as well - something just as familiar, and yet somehow _wrong_. It was Dark, like some strange taint. It was like some extra magic that he hadn't been fully conscious of before, and yet it had been around him for as long as he could remember. Why was it suddenly so intense now? And why was Harry's scar suddenly aching painfully? He lifted a hand up to rub it, trying to ease the throbbing discomfort.

Not only were they surrounded by the strangely familiar magic, but Holly's expression was oddly intense, and she seemed to be holding her wand with what could only be described as 'fierceness.' Her green eyes were hard, and with a zigzag of her wand, a bright green light appeared. When it hit the hare, its twitching ceased. Slowly, Holly lowered her wand, and began to blink. A look of confusion crossed her face.

"Wha - did you kill the rabbit?" Holly asked, bemused. "Or - did I?" She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "What happened? I feel - really good, but really weird. It stings." She scrunched her face in discomfort and began to rub her arms, her gaze drifting over to Harry. "You're rubbing your scar. Does it feel weird too? Mine feels -" her eyelids fluttered shut, "- good. Tingly."

"Holly - you don't - remember? And what do you mean good? My scar _hurts_!"

"Hurts? What?" she frowned. "Wait. I - I killed the rabbit didn't I? I remember running, and feeling amazing, like a nundu. Like I was running on air and nothing could catch me."

"Yeah. It was like that for me too."

Holly's brows drew together. "It kept feeling better, the closer I got to the rabbit. But then -" Holly shuddered, and Harry crossed over to her, taking her hand and squeezing it. She smiled weakly and squeezed back.

"It's so - weird! For a moment, I felt like I wasn't really _me_ anymore. It was like something Dark was all around me - or - erm - inside me perhaps. I -" Holly looked at Harry, and there was something in her eyes, as though she were pleading. "Did you feel that too?"

The question made Harry's chest feel like it was suddenly encased ice. He was so accustomed to knowing everything his sister felt. He was accustomed to her knowing what he felt as well. So it was horrifying to know that he had no idea what she was talking about. Through their link, they were aware of the sense of disconnection between them. Holly's face paled, and she gave Harry a wounded look, even though he couldn't have been at fault.

Holly began to pull her hand away, looking hurt and betrayed and Harry felt himself panicking. Without thinking, he threw his arms around her and hugged her close.

"It doesn't matter!" he affirmed. "It doesn't matter at all. I love you no matter what. And you love me too, right?"

A whimper seemed to escape Holly's lips, like the beginning of a sob. "Mm," she nodded, unable to speak past the thickness in her throat. She closed her eyes, letting Harry's familiar magic flow through her until the horrible sensation of being alienated and abandoned faded away.

The twins stayed like that, until their hearts were no longer racing, and they felt as though they could breath again. When they were calm, they pulled apart, and Harry picked up the hare. He gave his sister a weak, crooked smile. "At least mama will be proud."

Holly shook her head, looking troubled, and Harry immediately regretted his words, even if he wasn't sure what he had said that was wrong. Why did this have to happen? He had never experienced anything like this with Holly before. The pair of them touched the ethereal tethers, using it to guide them back to Bellatrix.

Though she was full of praise and affection, neither of them felt more than the faintest shadow of joy. Considering that it was just a single hare, Bellatrix made a fairly big fuss over it ("I'm going to have the house-elf make us rabbit cacciatore tonight!") She hardly noticed the twin's subdued mood and unresponsiveness, attributing it to tiredness rather than melancholy. As far as Bellatrix was concerned, if the twins could kill a 'cute widdle wabbit,' then they should surely manage a few muggles in due time.

That night, Harry and Holly had more difficulty falling asleep than usual. Their skin ached, and even though Bellatrix and attempted to heal and sooth their sores and cuts, they felt a persistent stinging that made it nearly impossible to relax. The twins stayed as close to one another as possible, as though physical closeness could make up for the strange fissure that had appeared between them. They could not shake the sense that there was something _else_ there. Beyond their own familiar magic, there was that strange Dark feeling Harry had been aware of when Holly momentarily lost herself. It was both foreign and unsettling, and yet terribly familiar.

Whatever it was, it seemed Bellatrix could sense it too, for their mama had been particularly cuddly and affectionate, and had fallen asleep, looking much more blissful than she usually did, murmuring about sweetness and the Dark Lord. The words should have soothed the twins, but instead, they felt conflicted and bewildered.

It was disturbing to the twins, how the foreign familiarity within them continued to intensify. They both recognized that the feeling had seemingly always been there, and only now were they really aware of it, like a fish suddenly realizing it was in water. The force of it had been so weak before - if they felt it back when they lived with their muggle relatives, they could hardly remember. And during their time at the Malfoy manor, the tainted sensation was all but nonexistent. But ever since joining mama on this search for the Dark Lord, the Darkness seemed to grow and multiply. Was it ever since they picked up their wands? No, it was before that - when their magic lashed out and made that old man choke and cough. And now, with every spell they cast, every magical skill they learned, it was taking a deeper hold upon them, merging and binding with the seductive oiliness of their wand's magic.

Eventually, their consciousness seemed to fade out, and they were tucked into one another as though they were back in the cupboard where they muggles used to stuff them, needing the support of their twin's presence. They often shared dreams if they were touching, which meant it occurred more often than not. With the lives that they had led, they were often prone to having bad dreams, but with each other's presence, they could at least 'save' each other from their nightmares. Each twin was the other's talismen of strength.

However, this night, something was different. They thought they had fallen asleep. They were asleep, weren't they? So why was it that they felt like they were locked in their bodies, paralyzed and unable to move? It was dark - their eyes were closed, so they did not think they could see anything, and yet, they somehow 'saw' one another, lying so close together, but feeling strangely and frighteningly apart. They were simultaneously aware that there was something or someone there with them. True, Bellatrix shared the bed with them, but it was not Bellatrix that they sensed. No, the twins sensed another presence here, watching them as they watched it, not with their eyes, but with their magic. How long had that presence been there? Ever since they fell asleep? Or had it been there beforehand? Strange, how the presence felt like it was both there, and yet not there, as though it too, might be in this strange semi-conscious state.

Despite the there/not-there quality, the feeling of the magical presence was incredibly striking - it did not feel like a dream or some figment of their imaginations. It was that foreign and familiar magic and it felt far, far more intense than ever before. It was Dark - so Dark. They had only ever felt each other's magic, and so, they had never experienced something like this before. It did not feel like home, the way the twins magic felt to each other, and yet, it felt like _almost_ home. They could not taste it the way Bellatrix claimed to taste magic; there was no feeling of sweetness. And yet, it was alluring. Alluring and also terrifying and oppressive. They wanted to run from it, as much as they wanted to grasp it close to them.

Their consciousness and their magic seemed to tremble and hum in the face of this familiar strangeness. They felt like they were specimens, being carefully picked and examined, being infiltrated and turned inside out. They could sense emotions from the presence - sense its fascination with them, its puzzlement as it tried to figure out what they were.

And what was _it_? Who was it (assuming it was a 'who.') Stranger yet, they could feel the presence asking the same questions: 'Who are you?' And curiously: 'Why does your magic feel like mine?' Neither twins could answer the questions. Their bodies were frozen. They could not speak. The twins reached their magic out towards one another. Neither of them quite dared to reach their magic out towards the familiar-foreign presence. The strength of their love enabled to find one another, even in this strange, paralyzed state; however, to their surprise, the presence seemed to recoil and back away when faced with the sibling's love. It was not entirely gone, but seemed agitated and uncomfortable, as if love were its antithesis and it could not bear to be too close, even as it was drawn to them, to their familiarity.

They did nothing more than stay close to one another; there was nothing else they could have done. They could feel the searching questions quietly brushing their minds: 'who are you?' and 'what does this mean?' but the twins had no answers. Eventually, the presence faded away, and the strange paralysis was gone. Their consciousness faded to black as the deepest phase of sleep overtook them. As for the strange 'dream,' it would be nothing more than the haziest recollection the next day, soon to be forgotten as faint tendrils of memory weakened and faded.

-o-

It wasn't until late spring that Bellatrix and the twins had any direct encounters with more muggles. Because much of the country was quite populated, Bellatrix had been very careful to avoid crossing paths with most muggle-populated regions, which wasn't always easy because the mysterious Gris Malmangeur often left signs of his presence near the outskirts of villages. While she could take on several muggles at once, even Bellatrix wasn't reckless enough to attack a whole village or town all by herself (even if, in her fantasies, she was all too happy to burn every settlement down to the ground.) So, if there was a risk that they were nearing any muggle towns, Bellatrix would carefully use the disillusionment charm on all of them, concealing them from any muggle eyes.

But although Bellatrix was careful to mask their presence, that did not mean that she actually liked slinking about in the shadows, hiding herself and the twins from the lowly muggles. No, if it were up to her, she'd be walking proudly amidst them, knowing she was far superior to them in every way. If anything, having to use disillusionment charms or muggle-repelling charms only made her long to kill and torment muggles all the more.

Ever since Bellatrix had the twins take up hunting, food was rarely if ever an issue, so there hadn't really been the need to seek out a fresh store of rations from muggle sources. The strange incident where Holly felt like she wasn't entirely 'herself' when she killed anything (and curiously, it was always Holly who made the kill) always repeated itself. Furthermore, the Dark sense of that familiar and yet foreign magic persisted, like a stain that was impossible to remove. But while it was unnerving and strange, the twins learned to accept it when they realized that it wasn't something that would come between them, nor did it bleed into other aspects of their lives. While it was true that Harry couldn't understand how the experience was like for Holly, Holly was reassured by the fact that he would be by her side no matter what. The twins had even tried to explain it to Bellatrix, but their mama couldn't seem to get past the fact that it was 'unfair' of Holly to hog all the kills while Harry got none. At least she was proud of them for having some 'killing spirit' (whatever that meant - the twins didn't really understand, but they were still glad their mama was proud.)

If anything, this new difference between the twins had brought them closer than ever. True, they no longer understood seemingly everything about each other. But there was the understanding that they accepted one another unconditionally, and that was somehow more powerful. Their hunts had increased their confidence and honed their magic. In many ways, they were stronger than ever, even if the Dark taint also strengthened as well.

As the twins used their magic with greater frequency and power, it left Bellatrix in a rather intoxicated state. True, it was not an overwhelming intoxication (and in fact, it was fairly mild), but it was enough to keep Bellatrix relatively calm and level-minded on her quest to find the Dark Lord. Without that delectable 'taste' of Dark magic on a near daily basis, it was quite possible that Bellatrix's underlying instability would have led her to start killing and torturing muggles left and right, in an indiscriminate fit of temper. But just because Bellatrix had so far refrained from going on any sort of reckless solo rampages against muggles, that did not mean that she felt no urge to hurt and kill. It only meant that she had some measure of self-control about it.

As Bellatrix and the twins continued on their long and maddeningly convoluted journey across (what felt like all of) Germany, they came across a derelict looking farmhouse, perhaps abandoned. At any other point in time (excepting Bellatrix's time spent in Azkaban,) Bellatrix would have paid no heed to the farmhouse. It looked dilapidated and dirty, and they very sight of it made her skin crawl as she considered the insects, dust and muck. However, Bellatrix was bored and she was itching for an opportunity for some sort of real fun.

The twins were busy working on their penmanship as they sat on their hitzetier's back. She had transfigured a pair of floating boards to be used as makeshift desks, as well as parchment and long pheasant-feather quills. A lesson such as penmanship did not really require any participation on her part (aside from praise or criticism of their letters.) If they had been any other children, she would have likely entertained herself by mocking and making fun of them as they tried to concentrate, but when it came to the twins, it didn't occur to her to do such a thing. It was true that she wasn't really kind, and that she did sometimes taunt them, but in her own way, Bellatrix also cared for them, and deeply at that.

And so, as Bellatrix's eyes fell upon the ramshackle farmhouse, her first instinct was a strong desire to explore, and because the twin's attention had been focused on creating even letters, they did not notice their surroundings until they were upon the old farmhouse.

"Mama?" Holly questioned, when she noticed the gleam in Bellatrix's eyes as she scrutinized the run-down building.

"What are we doing here?" Harry looked at the farmhouse, puzzled.

"Let's have a look-see, shall we?" Bellatrix climbed off her mount and gave the twins a toothy grin, unable to repress her excitement. She had a feeling that she'd be able to find a little fun, and her fingers curled and uncurled in anticipation around her wand.

Harry and Holly climbed off Hamal reluctantly, petting him more for their own reassurance, than for the hitzetier's. The farmhouse looked terribly neglected - for all they knew, the roof could fall down upon their heads as soon as they walked through the door. But in truth, it wasn't the state of the building that gave them that sick, roiling feeling in the pit of their stomachs. Hunting and killing for food was one thing. But this? This wasn't hunting. This was something else. Something that just felt _bad_ (even if Bellatrix would claim otherwise.)

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Bellatrix called out impatiently, gesturing for the twins to follow close behind her. "We could do with a bit of time out of the sun. Those mounts are preposterously hot."

The twins knew that if Bellatrix had truly wanted some shade, this was not the sort of place she would have chosen (ignoring the fact that she could have easily used magic to create shade, or even a nice little breeze to blow upon her face.) But neither of them commented. It was true that even with the cooling blankets, that the hitzetiers radiated a great deal of heat, and now that they were edging towards summer, it was only getting worse.

The twins trod up to Bellatrix, standing a short distance behind her as she pulled out her wand and used it to flick the door open in a gesture that was the perfect mix of disdainful and haughty. The door creaked with an uncomfortably long screech, but the sound seemed to be swallowed up by the oppressive and heavy atmosphere of the abandoned looking house. Everything appeared to be covered with a thick grimy layer of dirt. The furniture within was either broken or badly rotted, and the wallpaper was peeling and moldy. There was rubbish everywhere: broken and unbroken bottles, wrappers, cigarette butts, rags, bits and pieces of paper. And yet, as neglected as the house looked, it felt lived-in. There was the odor of human musk and human waste, and the twins could see sleeping bags tucked against one of the walls. Harry and Holly wanted nothing more than to turn tail and leave. This was nothing like the serenity of the woods. This felt _sick_.

Bellatrix's nose wrinkled with disgust, and with another wave of her wand, the pungent odors lost their sharp intensity. Now, all that was left on Bellatrix's face was a look of hungry anticipation. She made a humming noise, and the twins thought that they heard her murmur: "time for the hunt to begin."

Harry and Holly stuck close to Bellatrix. They had never encountered a setting like this one. Their muggle relatives had been middle-class, living in a 'respectable' house, and the Malfoys were in the top tier of society. The animal-like dirtiness of the farmhouse left the hairs on their arms standing, as though their instincts were warning them that threats could leap out at them at any moment. It was true that they trusted in Bellatrix's abilities to keep them safe, but something about this squalid and unfamiliar scene screamed danger, and the twins could not help but feel tense.

Somewhere within the house, they could hear slurred voices talking. None of them were able to pick out the words, even with the translation charm. Bellatrix was all but vibrating with giddiness, while the twins felt sicker than ever. They were getting more accustomed to seeing death, whether it was fish, or rabbits or deer, but the death of animals couldn't prepare them for the death of humans. Even the death of humans that they had already seen couldn't prepare them for the death to come.

They crept deeper into the house, and the voices got louder as they neared one of the open doorways. A set of rickety looking wooden steps led down to a dank basement, lit with a bare lightbulb. At this point, Harry and Holly were clutching each other's hand, feeling cold with dread. Though logically, they knew that they were at an advantage because they had magic, they could not help but feel as though they were walking into some sort of horrible trap. The confined looking space of the basement only increased their apprehension.

"Wands out, babies," Bellatrix ordered softly. The twins quickly obeyed, letting the warm greasy feeling wash over them. Curiously, a bit of their fear subsided and was replaced by something a bit more disturbing, that felt almost like eagerness.

"I'm like a nundu," Holly whispered in a mantra, so quietly that only Harry heard her. "I am the predator. Nothing will hurt me." Her grip on her wand was so tight that her knuckles were white. True, she had killed many times before, even if it was just animals. But even now, she could never fully remember how she did it. What if she couldn't do it now? In fact, how could either Harry or Holly even contemplate killing muggles? This didn't feel anything like a hunt. Harry edged closer to her, letting their familiar magic wash over her.

"I'm with you no matter what," he whispered to her. "I have your back, and you have mine."

Holly could only nod stiffly. At this point, Bellatrix was already climbing down the stairs, and despite their worn and rotting state, she moved with inborn elegance, completely unafraid.

The voices below were clearer now. The twins thought they heard someone say: "Who's there?" and they found themselves wishing that the words had remained muffled and slurred. It was somehow so much worse, when the words were clear. It reminded them that these were humans that they were facing.

Bellatrix had reached the bottom of the stairs, the twins right behind her. Bellatrix twirled her wand in an utterly casual gesture as she surveyed the scene before her. There were three filthy-looking men, staring at Bellatrix with bleary eyes and dazed expressions. To the twins, it looked like some sort of strange muggle potions lab with giant cauldrons, but Bellatrix recognized the scent of alcohol. It was some sort of illegal set-up for the home-distillation of liquor.

The men had perhaps been imbibing their own brew because all of them looked to be various stages of drunk and all of them were grimy. They had scarcely noticed the twins, but were instead ogling Bellatrix who, even under the harsh light of the bare lightbulb, looked regal and exquisite. They cursed and murmured appreciatively, as their eyes roamed up and down her body.

Bellatrix's lip lifted in a sneer. "Looks like I've finally found the filthy little rats."

The men seemed to completely disregard her words. One of them was saying something like: 'beautiful goddess,' while the second was describing the perverse and disgusting things he wanted to do to her, and the third was drooling (though how much of that was related to Bellatrix's beauty as opposed to his inebriated state was hard to tell.)

Though Holly and Harry were sure that Bellatrix planned to do horrible, painful things to these muggles, their first feelings were of disgust and revulsion rather than sympathy. This whole scene felt far, far too different from the scene with the loving couple, so that repulsion overrode their feelings of compassion. Even with Bellatrix's odor-blocking charm, the men stank, and they looked grubby and acted disgustingly vulgar. The state that they lived in was foul, and their minds seemed to be no better. The men began to shamble towards Bellatrix, and the twins backed away nervously, until their backs were pressed against the wall.

With a lazy figure-eight swirl of her wand, inky shadows arose from the dirt-caked floor, twisting slowly but surely around the ankles of the men. When the men found that they could no longer move, their expressions changed from lust to bafflement. They struggled to move forward, their minds too hazy with alcohol to be able to deduce what was happening to them.

Bellatrix gave them a predatory smile. Without looking away from the men, she spoke. "Babies, I want you to pick one. Pick the one you want to kill. I'll let you have first choice. The one on the left, perhaps - he looks the strongest, doesn't he? He might even put up a good fight." Bellatrix chuckled darkly at her own comment.

Though the twins wanted the men gone, that didn't mean they wanted them tortured and dead. They might have felt revulsion, but that wasn't a true motive for killing anything. "I - I don't want to, mama," Holly stammered, but there was an edge of mulishness in her voice.

Harry pressed against Holly in support. "We won't do it." Their mama had been happy with them lately, so surely, they would be given some leeway, wouldn't they? However, the twins did not fully realize the vast difference that Bellatrix perceived between killing animals and killing muggles. Yes, she had been pleased with them for killing animals, but that was because she expected it to lead up to killing muggles.

The twins words caused Bellatrix to finally looked away from the muggles, her lips twisted downwards as she looked at the twins reproachfully. "What are you going on about? Of course you will! You've both become excellent hunters, have you not? You bring back game nearly every day now. I know that you're both capable."

"This - this isn't the same," Holly admitted unhappily, staring at one of the far walls since she was unable to meet Bellatrix's eyes. "It's like - like killing cats in a basket."

Bellatrix hummed thoughtfully. "It is, isn't it?" She glanced over at the muggle men who were still struggling. "But letting them loose would make things so messy. They might -" Bellatrix cringed, "accidently touch me. And they're vermin! We _need_ to get rid of them."

"But - well, getting rid of vermin doesn't mean we have to kill them," Harry reasoned with an edge of desperation in his voice. "I mean, if there's a spider in the tent, we can either squish it, or put it outside. If muggles are vermin, can't we just - put them somewhere else? Somewhere where they won't bother us?"

Bellatrix lifted one hand and began rubbing her eyes, while her wand hand maintained the spell on the muggles. "You two need a lesson _now_? Of all times? It's one thing to put a bitty spider outside, but these are _muggles_. Haven't I taught you time and time again of how dangerous they are? Of the things they'd do to us if given the chance? Do you want to be tied up and burned at the stake? Do you? If a spider or ant or bird gets stuck in the house, we let it outside because it's _harmless_. Muggles are NOT harmless. They are despicable and dangerous creatures and it is our _duty_ to protect ourselves from them. Torturing them is just a nice bonus."

Harry and Holly shared a look. How could they argue against that? Almost all that they knew about the world had been taught to them by Bellatrix. They had no idea how to argue against her reasoning. It wasn't enough to just say that for some inexplicable reason, having to kill muggles felt somehow wrong. If they said that, Bellatrix would think they were completely backwards!

Bellatrix sighed. "Such little babies you are. You have to remember that mama knows best. And besides, your magic was made to hurt and kill. I can _taste_ it. Oh! I know! I'll get things warmed up for you."

Bellatrix then turned back to the muggle men, her eyes gleaming with manic desire and blood lust, and the toothy grin returned to her face. "I've waited too long for this," she purred. "Far too long. Babies? Don't even think of closing your eyes this time. It's time you see the pleasure of this."

The twins felt their stomachs drop, just as Bellatrix screeched: "_crucio!_" An angry beam of red flew towards the man in the middle, who screamed in agonizing pain and fell to his knees. The other two men seemed to have been shaken out of their stupor, and tried to back away, only to fall backwards, ensnared by the shadowy bindings. The tortured muggle shrieked and wailed, his body contorting into strange distorted angles as his muscles strained and his hands became claw-like, and his spine curved so greatly it looked like a bow that might soon snap. He lost control of his bowels, and the other two men desperately tried to put distance between them.

The twin's had already made a move to cover their ears and squeeze their eyes shut, but they somehow stopped themselves, remembering Bellatrix's order, and forced themselves to watch, as horrific as it was. Some part of Harry's mind shut down. His eyes were open, but his thoughts and his heart was placed behind a wall, a barrier, unwilling to process what he were seeing. He separated himself from the present, dissociating from the horror before him. And because Harry closed down, he didn't fully realize that the Dark taint was rooting deeper and was causing some part of Holly to open up. If he had looked over at his sister, he would have seen her eyes wide, and her pupils dilated, taking in the muggle's pain with a terrifying look close to hunger. The Holly that he knew so well was gone, replaced by the One-Who-Kills.

Bellatrix was so caught up in the pleasure of the curse, so wonderfully and achingly thrilled to be feeling the seductive caress of Dark Magic once again that she did not notice one of the men breaking free of his shadowy fetters. It wasn't the case that Bellatrix had lost control of her magic - nor had she actually lessened the power of the onyx black bonds. However, it just so happened that some muggles had a resistance to magic. Those in the wizarding world had never cared enough about muggles to find out why - perhaps these people were descendants of squibs or other magical beings with resistance to magic itself. Whatever the case, one of the men here had a slight resistance to magic, and with enough desperate effort, he managed to free himself.

The man was frantic to get away. Even if he did not understand magic - even if he thought that maybe he was being attacked by aliens, or that this was some bizarre nightmare or hallucination, he still had his instincts, and those instincts screamed at him to run, to escape this threat to his life and well-being. Unfortunately, there was only one escape route: the stairs. The basement itself was barren except for the home-distillery - almost more like a cold-cellar than a basement. However, Bellatrix and the twins stood at the base of the stairs, blocking his way to freedom.

Yet, for all that the man was afraid, his sense self-preservation was strong, and upon seeing the two children, his mind immediately seized upon them as a weak point, and thus an opportunity. The twins looked so alike - and while they did not precisely look like the beautiful woman, there was no question that they were her children, for they had her elegant bone structure, deep-set eyes fringed by sooty lashes and dark hair-colouring. But it was the girl that drew his attention - she seemed to radiate a certain vulnerability so clearly seen in her luminous green eyes, but like a sweet scented predatory plant, her vulnerability was a lie. The man did not even register Holly's expression. He would not have been able to make sense of the hunger in her eyes anyway. His body acted without input from his mind. Lunging forward with clumsy steps, he seized her by the neck, by that delicate pale column of flesh, attempting to pull her in front of him and use her as a human shield.

Harry watched in horror as one of the men climbed to his feet and grabbed his beloved Holly. A moment ago, when Bellatrix had told the twins that she wanted them to kill one of the men, he had been sick with apprehension and dismay about the thought of taking a life. But now his sister's life appeared to be in danger, and it brought forth that animalistic instinct, so familiar from the days when the twins still lived with the muggles, or more recently, the erkling attack. He didn't think about what he was doing. Moments like these were not moments for thoughts, but rather actions. Instead, he snarled like a wild beast, wand forgotten even though it remained clenched in his fist, and leapt upon the man, tearing into him with his teeth and limbs, clinging tight with his legs.

Harry tasted hot, metallic blood gushing into his mouth and dripping down his chin, and bit down harder, ripping free a chunk of flesh before biting again. The man's screech joined the chorus of the screams from the man that Bellatrix was torturing, and he let loose his grip on Holly, attempting to pull the feral and vicious boy off of him. But Harry would not let go. The magic seemed to crackle and hum between Harry and Holly, but they were no longer touching - it did not have the same power that it would have, had they been in contact.

Harry was so caught up in his attack that he was barely aware of Holly's state of mind. When the man had lunged at her and grabbed her neck, she had not been afraid, but she was startled. The Dark side had already taken over her mind. That side of herself felt not fear but anticipation and craving - craving to hurt the muggle, to make him scream. With Harry mauling the man, he was distracted enough for Holly to be able to do what she wanted. True, she wouldn't be at full power, since she and Harry weren't in contact, but she had power enough to cause plenty of damage.

The muggle, who was roaring in pain, no longer paid any attention to Holly, but instead, threw himself and Harry against one of the walls with enough force to knock the air out of Harry's lungs, and crack a few ribs. Harry grunted in pain, losing his grip on the man and falling to the floor, as Holly shrieked his name. She may have fallen to her Dark side, but that part of Holly loved Harry as much as the rest of her. With a furious flick and slash of her wand, she cast a spell far more powerful than she should have been capable of, intent on obliterating the muggle. She might have considered torturing him earlier, but now, all that mattered to her was seeing him destroyed. Magic flowed through her and through the conduit of her wand, a hot, roiling toxic greasiness intent only on destruction.

A burst of light exploded from Holly's wand, and the recoiling magic from the manticore-core wand caused her to shriek in pain. The spell enveloped the man entirely in a burnt-orange light, and the man's screams became even shriller than before only to be cut off as his entire body obliterated itself. With the loss of contact between Harry and Holly, the burst of magic was far too much for Holly to handle. Killing him was one thing, but completely annihilating him was another. Holly's last thought was a silent plea for Harry to be all right, and then she lost consciousness, falling to the floor in a ragged heap.

The events that transpired seem to happen in slow motion, but in truth, it all occurred in the span of a few minutes.. Harry, though in terrible pain, remained conscious and was calling his sister in panic. He crawled over to her limp body, pulling himself towards her, even though his ribs screamed in agonizing white pain.

Bellatrix had stopped torturing the other muggle in surprise, watching the scene with bulging eyes. When Holly's magic burst forth, Harry was deaf to the muggle's shrieks of pain and oblivious to the muggle's total destruction, hearing only his sister's cries. He forgot even his own pain. All that Harry was aware of was Holly's crumbling body, and the desperate need to know that she was all right.

"Holly! Holly!" he pleaded, pulling her tight against him. Harry sent his magic towards her, willing it with all his might to give her strength and life. He sensed she wasn't dead - some part of him couldn't help but think that her death would spell his own death as well - yet it was extremely rare for one of them to be conscious while the other was not. It created a terrible chasm between them and he could hardly bear it. Harry did not even feel Bellatrix who had appeared by his side, a soothing hand in his hair while Bellatrix attempted to check Holly over and assess the state of her health.

"Shh, hush, my baby," Bellatrix crooned, wrapping her arms around the twins once she was sure that Holly was all right. "Holly will be fine. She used more magic than her body could handle alone. She just needs to rest. Hush."

It would have almost been a touching scene, except the other two muggle men were still moaning in terror and pain, begging and pleading for their lives, completely ignored by Bellatrix and unheard by Holly or Harry. There was no where the muggles could go - the shadowy tendrils still held them tight to the ground, and Bellatrix knew that they could wait. When it came to torture, Bellatrix's patience was near infinite.

Bellatrix gently stood gracefully, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come. Let's put you both to bed. Holly has done very well today - the spell she used was beautiful - so beautiful and so unique and you - ah well - you have proved yourself capable of hurting a muggle, at least. You're both making progress." Bellatrix would have preferred it if Harry had used a spell like Holly, instead of leaping upon the muggle like some _creature_, but neither Harry nor Holly were in a state to endure criticism. Later, when the twins were better, she would try and break Harry of his animalistic tendencies. He needed to learn to use his wand over his body, like a proper wizard.

Levitating Holly's body, Bellatrix ascended the stairs, followed closely by Harry. Outside, the tent was set up in a secluded area near the farmhouse, and Bellatrix gently placed Holly in one of the beds, checking her over for wounds. She checked Harry as well, healing his broken ribs and vanishing away the blood from his face and robes.

Whatever spell Holly had used had been brutal - her body was dark with bruises and cuts, so numerous that Bellatrix opted to use a potion rather than attempt to heal Holly herself. Harry climbed into bed with his sister, unwilling to allow any distance between them. He had never succeeded in any sort of healing magic before, but he wanted to try, for Holly's sake.

It was a while before Bellatrix caught on to what Harry was attempting, for she had been focused on applying salve to Holly's bruises. "Don't!" Bellatrix hissed when she became aware of Harry's actions. "Stop that!"

But it was too late - Harry's determination had been great, but healing magic was unlike anything that the twins had attempted. His skin paled to a sickly hue, and it was as if the life force drained out of him. Holly's wounds quickly faded, but even though he had been holding onto Holly, the effort was too much for Harry and he too lost consciousness, looking as badly drained as Holly herself. Bellatrix sighed heavily as she looked down upon her two babies. She could hardly be mad at Harry's recklessness. And besides, torturing the muggles had made her so wonderfully mellow, so that as upset as she was that the muggle had attempted to harm her babies, the anger did not run deep. The muggle was most certainly dead, by Holly's hand and that was what mattered. As Bellatrix admired the sight of the twins, she could not help but think that they were so lovely, even as drawn and pale as they were, tucked against each other like kittens. The pair of them looked like a set of beautiful corpses, like the most perfect gift to lay before the feet of the Dark Lord himself.

-o-

The twins ended up sleeping for three days straight, and while Bellatrix often sat by their bedside to stroke their hair and soft cheeks, she left most of their care to the house-elf. It was a bit of an irritation for her to delay the search for the Crystal Cave and Gris Malmangeur. She had noticed that he had left his territorial marker here as well - by this point, she could taste his disgusting magic, and had noted that he often frequented the edge of many muggle settlements. She had yet to figure out why.

However, Bellatrix was not too upset by the delay. The two muggles, still alive in the farmhouse, had provided hours and hours of entertainment. Sensing that the twins were magically burned out, she had opted to draw out the muggle's torture, thus providing herself with a continuous dose of sweet and blissful Dark Magic.

As for the twins, they drifted between the gentle blackness of oblivion, and that strange, paralyzed state in which they were both aware that something or someone was with them; that familiar foreignness that they kept remembering and then soon forgetting. It seemed more fascinated with them than ever - more eager to delve into their essence and find out everything that it could about them. It was as oppressive as before, and yet they longed for it, drawn in like helpless moths.

But at the same time, the twins longed to flee it. Whatever it was, it felt powerful. They could not help but think that it meant to crush them, to utterly smash and destroy them, and then pick through their remains, bathing itself in their still-warm blood. Yet at the same time, there was the sense that it longed to hold them close, cherish them like they were precious artifacts or treasure, meant to be placed in velvet boxes and locked away in the deepest, darkest and safest vaults.

But then, the twins would reach for each other, drowning themselves in their warm and protective love, and the strange presence would draw back, repulsed and attracted in equal measure, wanting to leave while wanting to partake in this thing it did not understand. The twins did not understand the presence either.

When the twins finally woke, the wisps of their dreams quickly faded away. It was maddening because they both felt as though there was something significant that they ought to remember, but no matter how they tried, they could not bring it to mind. Bellatrix was a mix of reproachful but affectionate, scolding them because of the delay they had caused, while hugging and petting them both (especially Holly.) Neither of the twins asked about the muggles in the farmhouse. Neither of them truly wanted to know, or even think about the matter at all. And if some part of them felt that it had been easier to watch dirty and ugly muggles being tortured, rather than attractive and loving ones, neither of them questioned the matter. Such aspects of their psyches would not be understood by such young children; not for years to come.

Through their twin bond, Harry could sense Holly's feelings of conflict about having killed the muggle. She couldn't fully remember it happening but she was aware of what she had done. She felt guilty for having killed the muggle, and yet a part of her didn't think it was so bad. Frighteningly enough, that part of her actually felt _good_. So she felt both guilty for her actions and also for not feeling guilty enough. Harry was aware that something was wrong, but because Holly was unwilling to discuss it, he was unable to discover what it was. He knew what she was feeling, and yet could not decipher what it meant. As for Harry, while Bellatrix hadn't directly said anything, he couldn't help but feel that he failed to live up to her expectations.

Bellatrix was pleased to finally be able to pack up their tent and continue their search. Their magic still felt a bit sluggish and weak, despite their long rest, so she focused their lessons on theoretical matters, rather than having them practice their magic. Once they were fully recovered, the hunts for food resumed, and for that, the twins were deeply grateful. Both of them needed to get away from Bellatrix, not because they didn't love her, but because the conflicted feelings of dealing with her praise towards Holly, and her instructive comments towards Harry were too overbearing. They valued the peacefulness of the forest - the sense of being a small part of a greater whole.

The pair of them split up once they were amidst the trees. It had become their usual hunting formation to stay as far away from each other as possible, while still being able to sense each other's presence. This allowed them to close in on their prey, like a pincer, herding their targets where Harry could get a clear shot. They were growing accustomed to casting solo spells, even if their individual spells were far more weaker than their dual spells. And while it hurt Harry's feelings, he knew that his sister wanted some space to think. They both knew that Harry couldn't understand what was affecting her. He would do everything that he could to support her, but beyond there, he was unequipped.

Perhaps it was because Harry was distracted by thoughts of his sister and his own niggling sense of failure, but his senses weren't as sharp as usual. As he leapt over small streams, and bound through the trees, he paid little heed to his surroundings. Some part of his instincts might automatically be honed towards prey, but he did not keep his guard up for danger. It was then he heard a rustling in the distant shrubbery, and a throating grunting sound. Through his link with Holly, there was a flare of her magic, like a warning, but by the time he whirled around, wand pointed, a large brown creature was already charging towards him.

Harry was caught off guard. Holly's magical warning, and his own surprise didn't give him time to think. He threw a rapid immobilization spell, which was more of an act of habit and instinct than planning, but the spell went wide of the wild boar that was aggressively rushing towards him.

"Harry!" Holly shrieked from the far right. "Run!"

Harry's feet were hitting the ground before he could even think. He paid no heed to where he was going - all that mattered was creating some distance between him and the hostile boar. He could feel pulses of magic as Holly threw spell after spell at the animal. But her reflexes weren't as quick as his own. Usually, it was Harry who incapacitated their prey while Holly dealt the killing blow when the creature was down. Trying to run and hit an agile creature at the same time, even one the size of a boar, was too much of a challenge. She couldn't instinctively anticipate the trajectory of the creature the same way that Harry seemed to.

Harry could feel his legs and lungs burning as he wove through the trees, bounding over roots to avoid tripping. He ducked under a fallen tree, dashing through a downward slope, which was easier than trying to run uphill. Behind him, he could hear the grunts and footfalls of the heavy beast, eating up the distance between them. He leapt over a small dried creek bed and turned sharply to avoid some thorny looking brambles. As he swerved to the left, he noticed a low-hanging branch, and immediately leapt towards it, hefting his body up. He climbed another branch, just as the boar reached the tree, slamming against it in rage.

Harry clung on to the trunk tightly and once he had his bearings, he aimed his wand. With a swift downwards stroke, he stunned the boar. When the creature finally lost consciousness its stubbly legs crumbling beneath it, Harry exhaled in relief. That was was when he finally became aware of the magic that was buzzing in agitation between him and Holly. The Darkness that he had felt before was more intense than ever, and when the burning of his limbs finally subsided, he realized his scar was stinging. As Holly drew closer and closer, the stinging became a nearly unbearable throbbing pain, and he pressed his palm against the scar, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I - am - going - to - destory - you," Holly spoke between panting breaths. When Harry opened his eyes to peer down at his sister, her eyes and wand were fixed on the boar, and the feeling of oppressive Darkness seemed to permeate everything around them, seeping through his skin. Mixed with the oily feeling from his wand, it was a mix of horrifying and pleasurable. And yet, he wanted it gone.

Holly made a figure-eight motion with her wand, and black tendrils rose up from the ground. It was the same spell that Bellatrix used to bind her victims. When had she learned it? There was a wide, predatory grin on her face, and she looked completely unlike the sister that he knew.

"What are you doing, Holly?" Harry questioned, once his lungs were no longer burning so intensely. "I stunned it. We just need to kill it, though we'll have to call for mama to transport it back."

Holly flicked a glance up at her brother, and the blacks of her eyes seemed to have swallowed up all of the green. "Kill it? That would be too easy. For daring to attack you, it deserves to _suffer_." Her high pitched voice did not suit the cruel worlds. Holly twisted her wand hand to draw a wave-like pattern aimed at the boar, and the creature awoke, grunting and straining as it tried to stand up. But the black tendrils held the creature down and it could not move. The whites of the boars eyes showed as the animal's panic increased.

Holly attention was pinned on the boar and she laughed, a frightening and soulless sound. "That's right. _Fear me_."

"Holly, you don't need to do this," Harry insisted. "Look! I'm fine. The boar didn't even hurt me. It just surprised me, that's all. My scar _really hurts_, Holly. Let's just get back to mama. I'm coming down." He started scrambling down from the higher branch to the lower branch. He had to do something. Shake her out of this weird state, perhaps.

"What are you talking about, Harry? My scar feels _amazing._ It feels _so good_. Warm, and nice." Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment, and her expression made her look as though she were lost in warm, melted pleasure. When she opened her eyes again, she looked almost dazed. It was unsettling, how blown her pupils were. She looked like Bellatrix, and yet, not. Bellatrix could be scary when she gave herself over to Dark Magic, but Holly was somehow worse. Bellatrix might make Harry want to run and cover his eyes. Holly made him want to join her. He felt like she was floating over a deadly cliff, inviting him to walk towards her, but it would only lead to his death. And the worst part was that he would have done it. He would for Holly. But it was a cliff that would surely destroy them both and he couldn't let it happen, for Holly's sake. He couldn't explain how he knew this - he just did. His heart screamed that it was true. Somehow, he had to pull her back from that abyss.

"Where was I?" A slow smile spread across Holly face She acted completely unaware of Harry's feelings, but the Dark taint was so overpowering that this came as no surprise. "Ah yes. How shall I make you suffer, you wretched animal? How shall I make you _hurt_?"

"Holly!" Harry cried. He jumped from the lower branch down to the ground, and dashed towards his sister, hugging her tightly before she could cast a spell. The pain in his scar seemed to explode, and he saw only brilliant, stabbing white across his field of vision. His knees gave out, while his muscles tensed. He was gripping his sister around her waist, but the pain caused him to cling to Holly more tightly, and she yelped in pain. Though she was saying something, he couldn't hear the words over the roaring in his ears.

"Don't do this Holly," Harry pleaded, forcing the words out past his pain. "You don't have to do this." The intensity of the white hot stinging of his scar began to subside. It still hurt, but he could finally relax his muscles the slightest bit, and he could hear what Holly was saying to him. The Dark taint still lingered, like a thick sort of sticky heaviness, clinging to his skin. But it wasn't as overbearing as before.

"I thought you accepted me," Holly was saying, her voice hurt and accusing. "I thought you cared. Don't you accept me as I am?"

"Of course!" Harry exclaimed. "I accept you no matter what. You're Holly. I'll love you forever."

"Even if I torture the boar?"

Harry felt the pain in his scar intensify, and he winced. "Yes," he ground out, and as horrible as it was, he knew it was the truth. "Yes, Holly, even then. I'd love you even if you tortured _me_."

"I would never!" Holly cried, and the pain in his scar faded yet again. "I'd never _ever_ do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?"

"I know, Holly. I'd never hurt you either." The Darkness seemed to recede a bit further, and Harry inhaled raggedly, suddenly aware of how much he needed to just _breathe_. "I'm sorry Holly."

It was hard to explain what he was apologizing for, but Holly immediately understood. For a moment, her world had narrowed down to nothing except her and Harry. For a moment, she was terrified of being rejected by him, and the idea was worse than being eaten alive by ravenous mongrels. Through their bond, she knew he was apologizing for making her doubt their connection, even if it was just for a second.

The Darkness faded away, bit by bit, so that the overwhelming atmosphere seemed to lighten. Holly peered over at the still-struggling boar. With a quick zigzag motion, a green beam of light burst out, and because the twins were touching, the magic took almost no effort. And yet, it still caused one final bright explosion of pain in Harry's scar, before all the discomfort and oppressive Darkness immediately vanished, and it was as if the pain never was.

Harry released his sister, and sprawled out on his back on the loamy ground, feeling like he had just lost a wrestling match. He was completely exhausted.

"Harry?" Holly asked, hesitantly, falling to her knees beside him. "What - what happened? I remember a boar chasing you, and then it gets a bit hazy from there."

Harry looked up at his sister and rested a hand on her knee. "Yeah, a boar was chasing me so I ran up a tree, and stunned it."

"I - wait - I was about to torture it, wasn't I?" A troubled expression crossed her face, and she looked ghostly pale under the shadowy light of the forest. "I was going to torture it but - but you stopped me? I -" Tears sprung to her eyes.

"It's okay," Harry soothed, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his sister. "It's okay."

"And - and I killed that muggle too," Holly stammered between her increasingly ragged breaths and the tears, which streamed down her face. "I'm a - I'm a killer."

"Shh -" Harry murmured, rubbing her back. "It's okay. It's good. We're - we're supposed to be killers. We're - well - we're hunters. We're like nundu. That's what we do. That's what we're good at. Together. I'm as much a killer as you are because I'm the one that catches everything. You're not alone. I promise."

Harry continued to hold her, until her sobs became hiccups. He spoke of every reassuring thing he could think of, but he meant every word. Through learning to hunt, Bellatrix had indeed taught the twins the art of killing. While Harry might not be the one to make the killing blow, he realized that he still held equal responsibility for every death. They might not want to kill and torture muggles. But some part of them was now aware that they were capable of it.

That night, the familiar-foreign presence returned to their dreams. Its presence was somehow more vivid than ever, and while the twins still feared it, the magnetic sense of attraction was even more powerful than ever.

'Who are you?' Dark presence asked yet again, with that odd way of speaking that felt like something caressing their minds. 'Why am I so drawn to you?' But in their sleep paralysis, the twins did not know how to answer. Though such a thing as mind magic existed, Bellatrix had never taught the subject to the twins, so neither of them realized that it was possible to read minds and project mental images.

The twins acted as they always did, in this curious situation, reaching for each other's magic and drawing a sense of power from each other's love. But while the Dark presence had always recoiled from their love before, it seemed almost curious now.

'What is this?' the voice asked. 'This - emotion. It feels strange. Painful, like being pulled apart. What is it? What could it be?'

The twins were unable to answer. Though the presence was overwhelming in both its magic and might, the twins couldn't shake the sense that the presence was just so _familiar_. They still could not decide whether their instincts were screaming at them to run towards or away from the presence. Some part of them wanted to envelop it, and be enveloped by it.

Tentatively, Holly opened herself up and sent out a feeling of love and acceptance. She was still feeling vulnerable from earlier events, and Harry's reassurance made her feel like love and acceptance would be the right answer. Following Holly's lead, Harry did the same and opened his heart as well. The presence edged closer, towards the almost-tangible magic created by love and affection, and for a moment, the presence appeared to reach out to them before hissing and drawing back.

'What did you do?' the brushing feeling in their mind demanded accusingly. 'I _felt_ something in my core? My heart? I don't even _have_ a heart. It _hurt_! How _dare _you! You'll pay for this impudence!'

With that, the presence finally fled, and the twins returned to the black unconsciousness of sleep. By morning, the odd presence was forgotten once again, all except for a faint lingering feeling in their heart, as though they given their love and were waiting to receive something back.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late summer, and at this point, Bellatrix and the twins could not help but wonder if they were just going round in circles. They weren't certain if Gris Malmangeur was playing around with them, but Bellatrix seemed to think so, and it fueled a sort of mad rage towards the being that Bellatrix hadn't even wanted to associate with in the first place. It made the twins cautious, not wanting to further exacerbate her anger, though Bellatrix was never in the habit of taking her anger out on the twins - rather, it was others who would suffer.

They had visited two other small wizarding villages, both to purchase fresh supplies and also just to enjoying being in the presence of other people (or at least people that Bellatrix deemed worthy, since she did not lump muggles in the same category.) For the twins, the experience of each village was just as novel and interesting as their visit to Mohnburg, for each village had its own unique personality and specialties. It also provided the twins with a chance to enjoy childish delights like chocolates and pastries and toys, even if it was just for a brief moment.

Surprisingly, they only encountered one other muggle on their travels, perhaps because their muggle-repelling charms were so effective. It was some wandering vagrant, and he had died soon after Bellatrix attempted to torture him. Perhaps he had a weak heart. Either way, the twins were grateful for it, knowing that Bellatrix expected them to watch. The experience was too brief for the Dark taint to overwhelm Holly. Bellatrix, of course, had been disappointed.

The twins practice of magic had moved on to a field of study that Bellatrix called Transfiguration, which involved turning one object into another one. Bellatrix's explanations for how to do it were never very clear. If they were old enough to be in Hogwarts, they would have understood just how exacting the magical field of Transfiguration was. Unfortunately, the practical aspect of their magic lessons were more of a process of trial and error, rather than well-defined explanations of the necessary steps.

They were attempting to turn leaves into keys, though they weren't entirely sure why. Bellatrix had made some off-hand comment about similar sizes and shapes, but for the most part, she provided little guidance. It was difficult to concentrate, when the wands made them feel so oily and unpleasant. The greasy feeling was easier to ignore on a hunt, when their senses were attuned to the world around them, but here, they were only following Bellatrix as they sat on Hamal's back. They found that rather than using intent and will alone, it helped to be able to vividly imagine the key itself - and the more sensory information they imagined, the more the leaf would transform.

As with most other magic, once they succeeded, they were both itchy and uncomfortable. But at least neither of them were bruised or cut up. However, their attempts were draining - it was like starting from the beginning all over again, and once they had made partially successful transfigurations, they could hardly manage any more magic for the rest of the day. But even if their magic was drained, the twins still made an effort to go out on hunts. True, they rarely ever caught anything after a day of strenuous Transfiguration practice (and it was difficult to even keep their steps silent), but both of them needed the serenity and feeling of complete presentness that they experienced out in the woods.

They were travelling at a rather sedate pace up a mountain range, because Bellatrix felt sure that she was finally close to pinning down Gris Malmangeur. The twins weren't certain of how Bellatrix knew, but she claimed that the taste and feel of the being's magic was somehow 'fresher' (with an expression of disgust on her face.) Bellatrix was too intent on keeping her senses alert, so the twins were quietly talking between themselves, speculating about whether or not wizards and witches actually used keys when things could be locked and unlocked with magic. Neither of them had ever seen the elder Malfoys use a key, and neither of them had ever had reason to go to Gringotts, where they would surely have found an answer to their question that yes, wizards did indeed still use keys.

They then (unwisely) attempted to use their remaining magic to turn their leaf-keys back into leaves so that they could feed it to Hamal. However, the effort was much too draining, and they were stuck with their oddly shaped objects, that they tucked into their pockets.

Bellatrix suddenly screeched, startling both twins, and causing their hitzetiers to prance uneasily. The gave her puzzed and uncertain looks, but Bellatrix was paying them no heed.

"He's playing with me!" In her anger, Bellatrix dug her legs into her hitzetier's sides so that it made an unhappy grunting noise, but as if sensing the threat that Bellatrix posed, it did no more than that. "Morgaine expunge his blasted magic!" she swore. "We've been here before, and Gris knows it. He's mocking me now. If I ever find that blasted creature, I'll curse him until he begs for the mercy of death. I'll curse him so that he knows no rest!"

The twins were uncertain of whether or not it was safe to question Bellatrix. Her cheeks were flushed with ire, and her eyes held a murderous gleam. In the end, they both decided to stay quiet and watch, petting Hamal to settle his agitation. Bellatrix dismounted, and stood upon the grassy patch of the mountainside. There was a determined look on her face that threatened any who would dare stand in her path. She strode over to a flat, rocky outcropping amidst the glass, standing upon it as though it were a pedestal, and she, a regal statue. The look in her eyes remained deathly dangerous, but an unnerving calmness had settled over her features as well.

Pulling out her wand, she lifted her arm and pointed her wand at the sky. Bellatrix began to chant words in a language unfamiliar to Harry and Holly, and yet, it called out to some part of them, as though they might just understand it if they listened hard enough. The language was guttural and coarse, but it felt ancient and powerful. The air began to take on a strange quality, as though somehow charged with some sort of mysterious energy. It felt heavy and had a metallic quality - too heavy for even the wind, so that the air felt curiously flat and dense. It made Harry and Holly's bones ache, and Hamal and Sheratan were even more nervous than before.

The twins climbed off Hamal's back, letting the two hitzetier wander further off when it was clear that neither of the animals could endure the oppressive atmosphere. While Harry and Holly found it uncomfortable, they remained close, wanting to see what Bellatrix would do next. Bellatrix lowered her arm to the level of her face, though her wand remained pointed at the sky. Her voice seemed to echo all around them, and the ache in their bones increased. Harry and Holly's hands were tightly clasp together, and through their link, they could feel a certain franticness in their magic, as though whatever Bellatrix was doing was stirring it up, creating an inner chaos.

Bellatrix made a sudden violent slash of her wand, the gesture so quick that the twin's backed away, startled. The earth around them seemed to leach of all colour, becoming a sickly shade of gray from somewhere behind them, slowly moving inwards towards Bellatrix in a circular pattern like water down a drain. The twin's eyes followed the movement of that pale greyness until their eyes were on Bellatrix once more, and to their horror, they saw that she was trembling, and tears were trailing down her cheeks - tears of crimson blood.

Bellatrix swayed, as though unable to hold herself aloft, and the twins acted on impulse, wanting to protect their mama as they dashed towards, releasing their grip on each other.

"No!" Bellatrix gasped, a hand held out as though meaning to ward them off, and they felt a moment of resistance in their steps, but they ignored it, pushing through. Harry reached Bellatrix first, catching her she as fell, just as Bellatrix cried out: "Don't touch me!"

Holly faltered, but it was too late for Harry. The pressure in his bones intensified a hundredfold, as if his bones were expanding within his body, straining against organs and muscles. He felt a slimy coldness sweep over him, and his eyes felt as though they were about to pop right out his skull. He thought he could hear Holly crying out his name, but it was hard to be sure. But then, her arms were around him, and that warm loving magic flowed through him, and soon, the pain was gone.

The three of them were now sitting in the center of a washed-out looking circle. Bellatrix and Harry were slumped against one another, while Holly leaned against her brother. Holly was wiping Harry's cheeks, which were stained with bloody tears, just as Bellatrix's face had been.

"Foolish baby," Bellatrix croaked, looking towards Harry with concern. "You should not have done that. Now the effects of the spell have been transferred to you - at least in part." Despite Bellatrix's words, the twins knew that they wouldn't have done otherwise. Both of them still strove to please her. But Harry's desire to make his mama happy was keener than Holly's - especially since he could not kill things with ease, the way that Bellatrix desired.

"What spell was that?" Harry's voice sounded just as raspy as Bellatrix's, and he felt incredibly tired.

"A seeking spell. A Dark one," Bellatrix admitted. "Not one I'd ever use lightly - the price is ordinarily too high. I learned of it months ago from one of the books I ordered, but assumed we would have found that wretched creature by now. But time grows short - I must find the Dark Lord. I won't let some flighty creature jerk me about."

"Price? What price is that?" Holly creased her brow, not liking the sound of the word. Especially where her mama and Harry were involved.

"The spell drains first our health and then magic until this Gris Malmangeur is found. The spell should, however, lead us directly to him. Especially since I've been able to absorb the magic in his territorial marker. He won't be able to escape me this time."

"It drains your health? But -" the crease in Holly's brow deepened. "What if you drain all your health and magic?"

Bellatrix gave Holly a look, as though she had just suggested something completely ridiculous. "In the highly unlikely event that such a thing would occur, then we would die."

Holly and Harry gasped. "Die?"

Something did flicker across Bellatrix's face then. It almost looked, for a moment, as though she was troubled, or even guilty, and she looked at Harry with something akin to regret or sadness, but then the look quickly vanished. "It won't happen. We will find Gris, and soon." Her voice was firm with conviction. The twins had no choice but to believe her, trust in her.

They whistled the melody that would call for their hitzetiers, and mounted them. Though Bellatrix and Harry were both weary, Bellatrix did not want to dawdle and waste time. As Harry and Holly rode behind Bellatrix, Harry noticed something materializing in the air above him, and his mouth fell open in surprise. It looked like bits of grit and dust, floating in the air in a discernable line. Like some sort of mini asteroid belt had just appeared in his vision.

"Do you see that?" His voice was a mix of mystification and awe as his eyes followed the line of grit.

"See what?" Holly questioned, trying to follow his gaze. But all she could see were tree tops and the clear brilliance of the cerulean sky.

Harry lifted an arm, pointing his finger at what he thought was a very obvious trail floating in the air. But Holly only shook her head.

"It's the spell, my baby," Bellatrix informed them, looking upwards at the line in the air. "_That_ will lead us to the wretched being." She tilted her head, as a thought occurred to her. "Apparition jumps may be faster than riding these maddening beasts." Her eyes narrowed. "Though I am magically depleted." Finally her eyes pulled away from the trail of grit and she looked at the twins consideringly, only to sigh moments later. "No, you're too drained as well, Harry. It would be a danger to make use of your magic, even with the aid of Holly. We ride then."

Bellatrix and the twins followed the trail, pushing their hitzetiers as fast as they would go, which turned out to be a surprisingly quick pace since the hitzetiers were very agile and nimble-footed on mountainous terrains. Though Bellatrix forced herself to maintain her regal posture, driven by the need to find the Dark Lord, Harry was extremely exhausted, slumping over the neck of Hamal. Holly did all that she could to lend him her strength and magic, but the feeling wasn't reciprocated, and instead kept leaching and leaching away. She had never experienced anything like it, and it left a cold shard of terror sitting uneasily in the pit of her stomach.

"How far?" Holly asked her brother.

He peeled open his eyes and gazed up at the sky. "I can't see where it ends. It just keeps going."

Holly pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling unhappy. She did not not like how that sounded. If Harry was already so worn out now, then how could he possibly last until they reached the mysterious Gris Malmangeur? But there was little that she could do, aside from continuing to feed her magic to Harry. It might not lend him much physical energy, but it was better than nothing.

Bellatrix and the twins ended up travelling through the night and the following day. By that point, even Bellatrix seemed to be flagging. Her posture was no longer so rigid, but unlike Harry, she was able to maintain her focus and keep her eyes on the grit trail. The experience may have been highly uncomfortable, but for Bellatrix, Azkaban had been worse. Holly had a feeling that Bellatrix had not even bothered to sleep. Holly herself had drifted off at some point, lulled by Hamal's steady canter, and Harry appeared more unconscious than conscious for the majority of their travels.

A triumphant cry from Bellatrix pulled Holly's attention away from her twin. It had even woken Harry, who sat up sluggishly and rubbed his eyes. The twins followed the direction of Bellatrix's stare, which was pointed at a curious-looking rocky outcropping, with a slight concave hollow. Harry could see that the magical trail pointed straight at the outcropping, and yet, there was no creature in sight. Was there perhaps some sort of hidden entrance?

Bellatrix seemed to have the same thought because she had pulled out her wand, and was waving and swishing it with deliberate movements, a look of intense concentration in her eyes. A multitude of colours sprang from her wand: dark blues, pale greens, golden yellows. They seemed to weave a disorganized web over the outcropping, flashing brightly and then fading. But finally, after throwing a pale purple spell that was meant to force the revelation of hidden creatures, an immense, strange shape emerged from the rocks - first a grey-coloured face like a demon, reminiscent of a Japanese oni. Then a broad grey chest, and thickly muscled arms, ending in vicious looking claws, with hind legs like those of an heavily muscled dog. And finally, webbed bat-like wings, grey, enormous and imposing, folded behind the creature's back.

Holly's eyes were like saucers. "Is that -"

"A gargoyle?" Harry finished, sounding breathless.

Bellatrix's was just as bewildered, but she quickly schooled her expression into one of narrow-eyed coolness. "Gargoyles are made of stone. They aren't living beings." With a wiggle and slash of her wand, she ended the seeking spell, and while Harry no longer felt as though his lifeforce was being drained, the exhaustion and weakness still lingered. It left his face pallid while dark circles marred the skin under his eyes.

The enormous creature took a step forward, its clawed foot digging into the ground with an ominous crunch. The hitzetiers backed away nervously, and even Harry and Holly felt the urge to shy away. But Bellatrix remained firm in the presence of the grey beast, sitting up straighter than ever on Sheratan's back.

A cruel smile spread across the creature's face, baring its great greyish fangs which looked as if they could easily rend a person in half with one vicious tear.

"Who says I'm a living being?" The creature mocked, its voice sounding like the deep rumbling of a rockfall, vibrating the very earth itself so that Bellatrix and the twins felt it resonating through their bones.

-o-

Bellatrix peered up at the great, stone-like creature before her, taking in its grotesque face, barrel-like chest, beast-like hindquarters, and its vast wings.

"You are Gris Malmangeur?" Bellatrix demanded, no hint of fear in her voice. The twins could not help but feel awed by her courage (though in truth, it would be more accurate to describe it as a fanatical fearlessness, for she was willing to do _anything_ for her beloved Dark Lord, even if it meant her own torture or death.)

"The very same," Gris rumbled, grinning a shark's toothy grin. "And you are the little pest who fancies herself a Dark witch who has been following me around like a fly hovers over centaur dung."

Bellatrix bristled with fury. "How _dare_ you, you disgusting filth!"

Gris began to shake before he threw back his head and roared with laughter. The booming noise caused the stones around them to bounce, and the leaves to quiver on the nearby trees. They could hear flocks of birds flapping out of the trees, frightened by the immense sound, while the hitzetiers grunted and skittered unhappily.

"I suppose that according to my own analogy, if you are a fly, then that makes me centaur dung, and it would follow that I would be disgusting filth," Gris mused, once his guffaws had died down.

Harry and Holly looked at one another, unsure of whether to laugh at or hide from Gris Malmangeur. Had he just insulted himself? Even Bellatrix had been thrown off balance, her brows twisted up in bemusement, and her mouth open as she tried to make sense of the creature before her.

"Nevermind that!" Bellatrix snarled, deciding that unyielding fierceness was the front she wished to present. There was no way that she would allow a beast to get the best of her. "Tell me where I can find the Crystal Cave!"

Gris crouched down onto his haunches, settling himself into a more comfortable position. His stony eyes gave Bellatrix a considering look, his great paw of a hand stroking his exaggerated chin, like some prodigious stone philosopher. He looked at Bellatrix as though she was some odd specimen, to be puzzled out and then set aside when he was bored. However, this only served to infuriate Bellatrix, who still had her wand in hand and was looking ready to curse Gris into pieces.

Gris hummed, which sounded like the churning of large boulders within some giant drum. "I can't say that you make a particularly convincing argument for why I should tell you."

"Tell me or I'll blast your wretched head off," Bellatrix ground out, her wand determinedly pointed right at Gris's forehead.

Gris seemed mildly amused by her words. "Is that a threat, little witchling, or are you just being a tease?"

Bellatrix gave a furious snarl. "_Confrin-_" She cut herself off before she could finish the words to the blasting curse. As tempting as it might be to see the horrid creature blown apart to bits of stone and dust (if he really was stone like he appeared to be,) it would not bring her any closer to finding the Dark Lord. Slowly, she forced herself to lower her wand.

"You know where the Crystal Cave is." Bellatrix spoke it as a statement, though she meant it as more of a question.

The corner of Gris's lip pulled upwards, and his expression was smug. "I know many things."

Bellatrix glowered. "What do you want for the information, beast?"

Gris looked at Bellatrix appraisingly, a slow and wicked smile making its way on his face. He hummed in contemplation. "Do you how gargoyles came to be?"

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you that it's rude to answer a question with a question?" Bellatrix snapped.

But the twins found themselves curious about Gris. "Gargoyles are used as water spouts," Holly piped. But when the grey eyes of the immense creature fell upon her, she pressed herself nearer to her twin, wondering why she had spoken.

"They're also ornamental," Harry recalled, his voice quiet from weariness. He was just as uneasy about the Gris, but he stood firm. If Bellatrix did not flinch away from the creature, then neither would he.

But Gris only smirked, before standing up yet again, unfurling his wings as though stretching them, before pulling them back around him. "Perhaps I was no more than an ornament once. If I was, those were long forgotten times."

"What is the point of this?" Bellatrix hissed irritably.

Gris ignored her. "It's said there was a monster once named Gargouille whose visage was so frightening that even evil spirits could not bear to look upon it. When it was slain, its head was mounted upon the walls of a temple to protect against evil."

The twins examined Gris Malmangeur, more curious than ever. He was certainly scary, but not so scary that it was unbearable to look at him. What Harry and Holly found just as mystifying was what these evil spirits were. They could not help but ask.

"Evil spirits?"

"Such an ambiguous statement, isn't it?" Gris rumbled, giving them a toothy, predatory grin. "A phrase created by non-magical squidglets."

"Squidglets?" Holly scrunched up her face, puzzled.

"Living, fleshy beings. You're all just so soft and squidgy, you know! It's always a bit messy if I accidentally happen to - hm - step on one of you. Anyhow, in this case, I mean - ah, what's the word - humans. Muggles."

The twin's frowned at Gris's use of language. It was such an odd description. He certainly had a way with words - and they did not mean this in a complimentary sense.

"Of course, there was more to the monster Gargouille than the squidg - than humans understood," Gris continued. "It was true enough that evil could not long survive in the presence of the monster. But it wasn't because the monster frightened evil away."

"Where are you going with this?" Bellatrix demanded, eyes flashing with anger and frustration.

Gris turned to look at Bellatrix, his smile particularly cruel. "I'm so glad you asked, little witchling. You see, it wasn't that Gargouille frightened off evil with his face. But the truth was very close. No, what Gargouille did was _eat_ evil. You may wonder how it is that I know this?" He gave a low, rumbling laugh full of menace. "I know this because I eat evil myself."

Bellatrix tensed, her lips thinned into a cold line. She herself had been called evil by others (most notably by Light witches and wizards.) Was Gris suggesting that he wanted to eat her? Her wand was already in hand, ready to blast Gris into dust if he made a move against her. However, the twins had no idea of what Bellatrix was thinking. It never would have occurred to them to think of their mama as evil. To Harry and Holly, their mama was just their mama, and they tended to assume that her actions fell on the spectrum of 'right' rather than 'wrong.'

Gris Malmangeur threw back his head in another booming laugh. "Curious, to see the direction of your thoughts, witchling. Your little half-spawn have no clue, do they?"

"Half-spawn? Do you mean us? And no clue about what?" Harry piped.

The immense creature gave the twins a rather nasty smile. "Why, the true nature of your sweet mother, of course. She seems quite certain of her own Dark nature, but have you two considered what that means?" Gris gave them a speculative look. "Perhaps not, seeing as how you two are little more than - hm - newborns. I imagine she means to shape you into her own image, to create two Dark little younglings like herself. Not that she has a particularly bad image, does she?" He leered at Bellatrix, but the look was without true lust.

Bellatrix fumed. "You dare -"

"Oh yes -" Gris quickly cut her off. "I do dare. I am near invincible after all. And before you begin gasping with envy, I will tell you now that it makes for a rather uninspiring life, if life is what you want to call it. You cannot even _begin_ to imagine the ennui I suffer. Knowing that an infinite stretch of boredom lies upon my horizon is the cross that I must bear. Truly, my only pleasure in life is to eat."

"And you mean to eat -"

"Ha!" Gris cut Bellatrix off again. "Don't presume to know what I mean. You would make for a tasty treat, but not in the way you imagine, little witchling." His eyes turned to surveyed the twins, and he bared his teeth in yet another mean grin. "But I wasn't speaking to you. I was speaking to your two little darlings, wasn't I? I think it's important for them to know just what sort of person you are, witchling. The very idea is -" Gris made a low rumbling sound of pleasure. "- delicious."

"What about our mama?" Harry interjected. He and Holly weren't quite sure what to make of the being, with his vicious grins and his ambiguous words. Gris struck them as being a bit unbalanced, laughing about the most random things, and going off on tangents that they did not fully understand. He was simultaneously frightening but also intriguing, for they had never encountered anything like him before (even in their lessons.)

"Why, your mama - as you call her - is evil of course," Gris answered lightly. "The vast majority of Dark witches and wizards tend to lean that way - though not all."

"Evil?" the twins gasped. Weren't evil people usually the villains in stories? Those that were described as being 'bad?' How could their own mama possibly be evil? The twins felt that Gris Malmangeur _had_ to be wrong.

Gris gave them a false-benign smile. "Do you doubt me? How else would you describe someone who tortures and kills other people for fun? Who gives her loyalty to a crazed Dark Lord intent on subjugating - hm - what do you call them - muggles and muggleborns alike? And that Dark Lord would likely take it even further. I doubt that your mama's beloved master would have any qualms about committing genocide." Gris peered over at Bellatrix, still smiling lazily. "Yes, I know all about your precious Lord Voldemort. That one has given me many a delightful meal indeed. Such pain and suffering he has caused - so many families destroyed and torn apart. So much fear and destruction. Quite well done - for a squidglet." Bellatrix sputtered angrily at the epitaph.

"But -" Harry and Holly's brows were furrowed as they attempted to digest Gris's words.

"Don't muggles and muggleborns deserve to be ruled over?" Holly queried uncertainly, regurgitating all that she and Harry had been taught. "Muggles are little more than - than beasts and muggleborns are dirty by association - aren't they?"

"And besides, Holly and I have killed things as well. If mama is evil, then we're evil too."

Gris smirked meanly. "Is that what you've been told? Do you really believe that? I've seen some of the work that your mama has done." His eyes slid back to Bellatrix, with a look of satisfaction. "I saw what happened to that poor couple. The wife, pregnant, and oh-so-in-love with her kind and dear husband. Both of them on holiday in their lovely little cottage by the lake." Gris's expression became almost wistful. "I would have liked to be there to see it happen. But as it was, I could only enjoy it from a distance. Alas, such is my fortune."

"You were there?" Bellatrix screeched. "Just how long have you been giving us the runaround?" But Gris only smirked and did not deign to reply.

Gris's attention returned to the twins, and there was a malicious gleam in his eyes. "I don't think the two of you have ever killed anything for fun, have you? By the way, do you enjoy your mama's little torture-shows? Being there right when it happens - being able to enjoy the spectacle? Did you enjoy hearing their screams? Watching their blood flow? Witnessing their agony?"

Harry and Holly felt the blood leaving their face, both of them as pale as sheets, wearing stricken expressions. The last thing they wanted to think about was what had happened to those muggles. Bellatrix had said that it was the right thing to do. That they were vermin to be exterminated. They _had_ to believe it. To believe otherwise was to mean that their mama had killed innocent people, and such a thing was far too horrible to contemplate. No, better to think that the muggles deserved what they got (even when their hearts screamed that it wasn't true.)

Gris's eyes seemed to brighten as he watched the twin's internal conflict.

"What are you playing at, beast? You are to deal with _me_, not the twins," Bellatrix insisted furiously, watching the strange interaction between Gris Malmangeur and Harry and Holly. "And you should know that the very existence of muggles is an evil thing. They are horrible creatures who are intent on ruining and destroying anything better than them. They aren't fit to lick the bottom of my boots. It's only right to crush them. What does any of it have to do with the Crystal Cave?"

"Such a spitfire you are, witchling," Gris chuckled with dark amusement. "This has plenty to do with the Crystal Cave. You wanted to know my price for this information, did you not? Well, just sit tight, like a good little blob of squishiness, and I will get to that. But in the meantime -"

Harry and Holly winced when Gris Malmangeur's attention returned to them. What had started out as an interesting conversation had become disturbing. And now, he was trying planting seeds in their minds. Toxic little seeds that made them wonder about their own mama.

"Tell me," Gris intoned mockingly, "do you two little ones actually believe that your mama is a good person? No -" he raised a hand to halt their speech. "Don't answer this until you've given it some thought. Until you've searched your own still-mostly-innocent little hearts. Because they are, you know. Innocent, that is. Despite the fact that traces of evil have seeped into your souls. Despite the fact that you have killed. It's something I'm sure that your mama has sensed - that Dark taint. But that Darkness isn't _you_, you know."

The twins gave Bellatrix a perplexed look, having no idea what Gris meant. Yes, they had sensed a Darkness lingering around them, but how was it not a part of them, when it was always around (or in) them? As for whether or not they thought Bellatrix was a good person, well, she was, wasn't she? Yes, it was true that Bellatrix sometimes committed frightening acts, but that was probably just an 'adult' thing that the twins did not yet understand.

"Mama is a good person," Holly asserted.

"She took us away from the bad muggles, and she cares for us," Harry affirmed. "She teaches us magic and she helps us to strengthen ourselves."

Gris looked back at Bellatrix, with a grin full of ridicule. "Listen to that!" He barked out a laugh. "Innocent as a pair of turtledoves, they are, for all that they've actually managed to kill. One would never have been able to guess that it were possible. Oh, this is going to be good. This is going to be very good." Gris chortled, as though amused by some sort of personal joke. The twins glanced at him warily. His actions only confirmed the impression they had received that he was unbalanced.

"I've had enough of this!" Bellatrix snapped irritably. "You've clearly lost your mind, if you're as invincible as you claim. And though I have no interest in your blithering, I'll point out that the Light like to paint anything they fear as evil, and it should come as no surprise that the Light fear _me_. But it's the Dark side that knows best. We know where true evil lies. Let's go, my babies. We're getting nowhere with this wretched beast."

She directed her hitzetier away from Gris Malmangeur, and the twins were grateful to follow. Gris did not even act troubled that they were leaving. If anything, he appeared to be still entertained by their proceedings, as though their actions were all for show.

"Off so soon, little witchling? You don't even want to know the price for the information you've been so desperately yearning for?"

Bellatrix scoffed. "Were you going to tell me? Seemed to me as if the _big bad cweature -_" (this was said in a sing-song baby voice) "- just wanted to hear the sound of his own voice, while making some pretense about being some sort of philosopher. As though something like _you_ would even know anything about good or evil."

"I'm telling you now. I really just wanted to - hm -" Gris smiled nastily "- savour the moment. To add some spices to this little dish I plan on serving up. You may think that I am belittling you, and it's true that at the end of the day, a single squidglet can only do so much, which is to say not much at all. But for a squidglet, you are more impressive than most, in your depravity. If that were something to actually be proud of, you ought to be proud." He gave her a patronizing smirk. "But in case you weren't sure, it's really not anything you should be proud of. It is, however, tasty."

"This is ridiculous," Bellatrix gritted out, a vein pulsing in her forehead as she debated whether to simply depart, or to endure another moment of Gris's obnoxiousness. "Either tell me your price, or leave us be. You are quite possibly the most aggravating creature I've ever encountered. Even listening to Lucius pontificate would be a pleasure compared to this. If not for the Dark Lord, I'd have blasted you into pebbles ages ago."

"Such sweet words, little witchling. If you had heard a word I said, you'd know that isn't possible to, as you say: 'blast me into pebbles.' If anything, such spells feel more like a tickle. Or - hm - a caress." Gris leered at Bellatrix who shuddered with disgust. "But I can see you twitching over there like a daffodil in a windstorm, so I'd best tell you now before you burst that vein in your forehead and spill your red juice all over the place."

Harry and Holly cringed at Gris's crass words. As for Bellatrix, she seemed to vibrate with barely restrained rage, but it was clear that she was desperate for any sort of lead that would take her closer to her beloved Dark Lord.

"Well?" She demanded through clenched teeth.

Gris somehow managed to look more pleased than ever. "You're excited now, aren't you witchling?"

"Just get on with it you wretched, horrible thing!"

Gris guffawed, and the twins could feel the vibration of it down to their toes. Both of them had a bad feeling about what was to come. Grid's words already had their thoughts about right and wrong in a twist. They didn't trust him, but he had sounded so certain.

"You say you want to find the Crystal Cave. Fortunately for you, I _do_ actually know where it's located. And while I'm not averse to occasionally giving away information for free, I find that you're not exactly deserving of such generosity, are you, little witchling?" He bared his teeth in a knowing grin. "But don't worry, I have no need for the gold in your coffers. In fact, what I seek is something that comes very naturally to you. A trifle, really."

Gris chuckled with amusement when Bellatrix's eyes narrowed at him. His eyes slid over to the twins. "I'll tell you where to find the Crystal Cave - _if_ -" Gris paused for a long dramatic moment. "If you torture your little half-spawn."

"Torture -" Bellatrix's eyes widened incredulously. "You want me to torture my babies?"

"Come now, it's not as though you've never tortured little ones before. And just think of how much closer you'll be to finding your wonderful Dark Lord! Think of how pleased he will be with you."

Bellatrix's expression became conflicted, and she looked over at the twins her dark eyes pained. Harry and Holly were both shocked. Why would Gris Malmangeur ask for such a thing? Not that they really knew anything about him, but the very concept of being tortured by their mama made them want to shrivel up and crawl into themselves. The way their muggle relatives had treated them had sometimes felt like a form of torture, and they had thought that they were safe with Bellatrix. She couldn't be considering it, could she? On the other hand, it was her life's dream to find the Dark Lord. The twins thought that maybe torture wouldn't be so awful if they were to agree to it. Would it make their mama happy? Would it make her proud?

"I -" Bellatrix began uncertainly, her hand clenched around her wand. While there were probably some wizarding families that used harmful spells on their own children, it was heavily censured in wizarding culture. The population of witches and wizards was so small compared to muggles, that magical children were seen as so much more precious. And yet, it was Bellatrix's greatest desire to find the Dark Lord. Some part of her knew that she'd pay almost any price to bring him back to the wizarding world, and it seemed especially important that she be the one to accomplish this great feat. But could she actually bring herself to torture the twins? Everything she had done for them in the past were well-intentioned actions meant to make them stronger and better. But while it might be beneficial to adapt the twins to pain, this wasn't how she would go about it.

"Do it, mama," Holly said softly, holding Harry's hand tightly.

"If it's the only way to find the Dark Lord, we'll help you however we can," Harry explained, squeezing his sister's hand. In that moment, both the twins felt that they were making the right choice. It was an act of love for their mama, but if they had truly known what the torture curse felt like, perhaps they would have hesitated and decided something else.

-o-

Gris looked from the Bellatrix to the twins, his eyes bright with anticipation for the torture to come. "Might want to be on solid ground for this," He advised the twins with a cruel smile.

Harry and Holly shared a look, before climbing off Hamal's back. They gave him a nervous pet along his neck before stepping towards their Bellatrix, their hands tightly clenched together. The twins gazed up at Bellatrix, both of them wearing expressions that were something between determination and fear. Tension was evident in every line of their body, but their green eyes were wide and vulnerable.

"Oh, I feel like I'm choosing between two equally delectable desserts," Gris gushed, his wings twitching excitedly. "Who first, Who first? Hm."

Bellatrix gave him a look laden with disgust, but that only caused Gris to chortle with a cruel sort of exuberance.

"This must be like what Yule feels like for the little ones. Oh, how will I choose!" Gris was becoming decidedly puppy-ish in manners. "I know! I'll save the best for last. Do the girl-one! The girl one looks like she has more energy. Use the _crucio_ curse. Not one of those namby-pamby ones. I want _agony_. Not a punch from a kitten."

Holly shivered with dread. She did not look over at Gris, but kept her eyes pinned on Bellatrix, as if silently entreating: 'be gentle.' Of course, such a thing was impossible when it came to the Cruciatus curse.

"Sit down, my babies," Bellatrix ordered, her voice low and a bit hoarse, as though something were blocking her throat. "It might be easier if you don't touch." She was aware of the way that Harry and Holly shared their magic, and knew that it was amplified by physical contact. She could taste how much stronger their magic was when the two of them touched. The last thing she wanted was for them both to suffer at the same time.

The twins sat cross-legged on a grassy patch of ground and reluctantly released one another. Gris had crouched down and propped his chin on his palms. If he were a muggle, this would probably be the point in time that he'd be pulling out a bucket of popcorn to obnoxiously munch on, as though this were his personal torture-theatre. In a way, it was.

"I'm still with you," Harry murmured in a brave attempt to be reassuring, and that was the last thing Holly was aware of before Bellatrix called out: "_crucio!_" After that the world seem to fall away so that there was only an infinite past, present and future of pain.

Harry watched in horror as his sister screamed and screamed, her body contorting into horrible angles as her muscles strained against the pain. It was the worst thing he had ever seen in his life - worse even than witnessing muggles being tortured and killed. Those muggles weren't people that he knew. They were just strangers. But this was Holly. This was his sister - the one person who had been there his whole life, and who he cared about, more than anyone else in all the world.

Without realizing what he was doing, he reached out for her, desperate to take away her pain, but Bellatrix screamed: "No!" and ended the curse. Bellatrix was panting heavily, her pupils blown, feeling a mix of sickening pleasure mixed with self-disgust, but Harry paid her no heed. Instead, he had Holly in his arms, holding her close to him as he babbled words of comfort. He was so weak and tired, and could barely keep her in his lap, but nonetheless, he held her with all his strength.

"Holly!" he pleaded. "Holly, are you okay? Oh, Holly - please tell me you're okay. Please!" There were tears streaming down both their eyes, and Holly kept trembling uncontrollably. Gris was rumbling something or other, but the twins were in a world of their own, and blocked everything out.

"Hurts," Holly whispered raggedly. "Hurts." Harry sent her the little bit of strength that he had, subconsciously letting his magic heal her as much as possible. But the effort drained him more than he could imagine. By the time that Holly was able to sit up on her own (albeit her muscles still spasmed and trembled), Harry could barely keep himself up. He had lost all colour in his face, and his eyes looked darkened and dull. His body felt weighted down by concrete.

"Imma gonna jus lie down," Harry slurred, falling to his side, and letting his eyes fall closed. "Doan worry bout me."

Gris Malmangeur's eyes had rolled back, and he was making rather disturbing sounds of pleasure. "_Sooo_ Good," he groaned ecstatically. "_Sooo_ Fresh. Oh little witching, you're a delight."

Bellatrix's eyebrows were drawn together. She looked dazed, and while torturing others was usually energizing, she felt curiously weak and lightheaded. "What have you done?"

"I just had a little nibble of your act of evil. Well, okay fine, I binged. Gorged. Stuffed myself like a ravenously obese wiener dog who happened to find a fresh batch of cat biscuits."

"Cat biscuits?"

"You know -" He flicked his wrist nonchalantly, "- haven't you ever seen dogs when they come across the cat box? Disgusting things, aren't they?"

Bellatrix felt herself turning green. "Why? No! Arg! You. Are. So. Ghastly! There is no _obliviate_ strong enough to wipe that disgusting image from my mind. I've seen and experienced many things in my life but you - you -"

"I make you feel like your soul is marinating in a sewer?" Gris suggested, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

Bellatrix turned greener. "That is horrifyingly apt, and yet I wish I had never heard you say it. Just - just tell me what else you want me to do so I never have to see or speak to you again."

Gris smirked. "You know what you have to do. The boy. The weak one. Looks half-dead already, doesn't he? It's his turn now."

Holly, who was feeling coherent enough to listen to the conversation began to shake her head frantically. "No. No! No, mama, no, don't do it! Harry can't take it. Do me again. Please, mama, please!" She moved onto her hands and knees, crouching over Harry protectively.

"Holly, baby," Bellatrix said, her voice wavering. "Move away from your brother."

"No!" Holly burst out stubbornly. "I won't! I won't!" The tears kept flowing down her face and her eyes were swollen and red.

"Holly," Harry croaked weakly. "It's - my turn now. We - hafta - help mama."

"There, see?" Gris pointed out, sounding aggravatingly self-satisfied. "He wants it. Go on then, witching. Make him scream. I know that it makes you feel good. You can't deny the pleasure it causes you."

"Shut your filth hole!" Bellatrix shouted furiously. "Believe me, I would never be doing this if there was another choice."

Gris laughed. "You like it. You like," he taunted in a sing-song way, much like Bellatrix often spoke. "You liiiike, like, like it."

"Shut Up, Shut Up, SHUT UP!" Bellatrix jabbed her wand towards Gris. "_Confringo_!"

A broad beam of light shot towards the gargoyle-like being, but instead of an explosion, nothing happened. Gris raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Getting frisky, are we? For someone who pretends to be so eager to find her darling Dark Lord, you sure are dawdling. Maybe he isn't as important to you as I thought. Maybe all your running around is just a big production, so that you can go home and sleep in your big cozy bed without feeling guilty. Maybe you've just been lying to yourself this whole time." Gris's voice changed into a mocking falsetto as he pretended to mimic Bellatrix. "_Oh la~ I love the Dark Lord so much, but don't make me do anything difficult for him! I just want all the praise but none of the work! Maybe if I just look pretty enough, he'll want to kiss and smooch me, and won't care that I've made no effort to find him!_"

"You don't know me," Bellatrix snarled. Her eyes hardened as she aimed her wand back at the twins, the point of her wand fixed on the middle of Harry's chest. "Get away from him Holly." Bellatrix's voice was flat.

"No!" Holly bawled. Harry mumbled something incoherent and tried to push his sister away, not wanting her to suffer, but he was far too weak. It was painful to even lift his own limbs.

"You'll kill him!" Holly cried, her voice shrill with panic. "He'll die! You can't mama! You can't!"

"It would be the greatest honour to die for the Dark Lord. So I'm only saying this once more, Holly. Get. Away. From. Him."

Through reddened eyes, Holly looked at Bellatrix with an expression that implored her not to take this course of action. But the expression on Bellatrix's face was unlike any that Holly had ever seen directed at her before. There was a slight glint of madness mixed with a cold, unwavering resolve. Something within Holly snapped. She was desperate for something, _anything_, that could save Harry from this fate. Having just experienced the Cruciatus curse, she knew that there was no way that Harry could endure it. Holly needed power. She needed strength to be able to protect her brother. And in that moment, she knew exactly what it was that made her feel powerful. It was that _thing_ within her - that Darkness that had the power over life or death. The One-Who-Kills.

Holly wasn't sure of what she was doing. While she leaned over Harry protectively, she frantically searched within herself until she instinctively started focusing on the scar along her hairline. It seemed to throb in that familiar way that felt _so_ good.

'More Power,' she thought to herself. 'I need More Power.' That was her last thought before her consciousness became hazy, and the heavy feeling of Darkness began to permeate the magic between Harry and Holly.

Harry groaned as the warm and familiar protective magic from Holly grew denser and Darker. He forced his eyes open, but then squeezed them shut again as his scar exploded in sharp agony, causing him to cry out. Was this the torture curse? Surely he could manage this, even if it hurt _so much_. He tried to force his eyes open again, needing to know what was happening. But instead of seeking out Bellatrix, his gaze was immediately drawn to Holly. She was leaning over his body, poised like a guardian lion, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say a territorial nundu. One hand on the ground supported her weight, but her other hand held her wand, pointed away at something. What was Holly aiming at? Gris?

He felt like a burning iron was being shoved through his scar and into his brain, and yet, something within him called out to his sister, just as something within her called out to him. The contact between their bodies caused their magic to blaze with immense intensity and power. He had never felt their magic this strongly before. It was amazing and it was agonizing. But words were being spoken. He had to focus. He had to push past the horrible torment in his head, and disregard the seductive lure of magic. What was Holly saying? Harry whimpered, and did his best to listen.

"You will not lay touch of your pitiful magic upon us," Holly commanded. Her voice was as unwavering and solid as a cliff face. Though Holly's eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks were still shiny from tears, something about her seemed completely different. She seemed _dangerous_. It took a moment before Harry realized that Holly was speaking to Bellatrix.

Bellatrix faltered, her wand point dropping a few centimetres. "Morgaine! What is this? This - this tastes like the Dark Lord's magic. I've always thought that your magic felt just like the Dark Lord's. And yet, I've never felt it this strongly except in his presence. Is -" she began to look around excitedly. "Is he here?"

"Foolish woman," Holly replied, and Harry was shocked by the scorn in her voice. "You dare still point your wand at us? You think your magic is a match for ours?"

Bellatrix was still looking around, the insane glint in her eyes brighter than ever. "My Lord? Master, are you here? Babies, we need to bow down before our Master."

"Oh, I like this turn of events," Gris rumbled with appreciation, looking far too happy.

"I am your Master," Holly snarled. "Bow before my power. _Crucio_!"

Bellatrix's screams pierced through the air, a horrible sound that felt like the clamouring of demons within the twin's skulls.

"Stop it!" Harry begged, clutching his sister. He could feel the shared magic ripping through him - feel the echo of the pleasure that coursed through Holly's veins, but at the same time, his scar was searing sharply, as though bits of glass were being rubbed into it. How could it possibly feel so amazingly rapturous to be hurting their own mama, and at the same time so horrible? Harry thought he was going to be sick.

"Stop!" He pleaded again, with greater force, and it seemed that this time, Holly heard him because she ended the spell. There was a crazed grin on her face, and wildness in her eyes, but neither were directed at Harry.

"Do you submit?" Holly asked, flashing her teeth in a predatory smile, her wand still pointed at Bellatrix. "Do see magnitude of my strength? Cower before me!"

Bellatrix moaned, barely able to sit up. Her muscles spasmed, causing fresh waves of pain to radiate through her body. "What's happening here? I don't understand. Master? Where are you? I've been looking for you My Lord. I am ever your faithful servant."

"You?" Holly intoned with derision. "Faithful? And yet you dare to hurt _My_ Harry? You dare to hurt _Me_? I have no need for a servant with a mind like a rabid dog. You should be punished!"

"What are you doing Holly?" Harry moaned, but his sister paid him no heed. Harry could feel their magic flowing through them again, strong and exhilarating, but at the same time, it was all too much. "I can't -" Whatever Harry was about to say slipped away. His sister was tapping into the joined strength of their magic, taking far more than ever before. He was starting to waver in and out of consciousness.

"Rabid dogs ought to be muzzled, don't you think?" Holly was suggesting, her voice laced with mockery and malice. She made a star-shaped movement with her wand and a reddish-gold beam of light shot out, and seemed to encase Bellatrix before seeping into her skin.

A puzzled expression crossed Bellatrix's face and she looked down at herself. "What is this? I feel -" Bellatrix's brow knit together. "I - my magic. What happened to my magic?" She grabbed her wand, and started to flick it frantically. "My magic! Where did it go? Where's my magic?"

Harry finally managed to pull his eyes away from Holly and he looked over at Bellatrix, perplexed. His eyes widened when he saw Bellatrix's face. Her expression was one of stark panic. Her dark eyes were shining, and then spilling with tears and she looked as vulnerable as a newborn fawn. More than that, Bellatrix looked broken, like a discarded doll. She kept repeating: "Magic? Where's my magic? Why can't I feel my magic?"

"It was me!" Holly hissed. "Look at me! I did it!"

That finally caught Bellatrix's attention. "Holly? You? It - it can't be. Holly. Give it back. Give me my magic back. GIVE IT BACK!"

Holly laughed maniacally. "Why should I?"

"What have you done?" Harry whispered. "Holly, you hafta stop this. Please! It's our mama."

Finally, Harry managed to catch Holly's attention. She looked down at his pale face and frowned. "Who do you love best? Me or mama?"

"You o' course. You know that, Holly. But - please. She's -" Harry felt his mind fade to black but he managed to pull back to consciousness. "She's our mama. You can' do this. She saved us from the muggles."

Harry's words caused the thick feeling of Darkness to lighten. A flicker of uncertainty crossed Holly's face. "We're a fammly," Harry continued to slur. "You, me, 'n mama." The feeling Darkness receded even further.

"I - I don't know if I can reverse the spell," Holly admitted weakly, her expression becoming more familiar, but also more troubled.

"We can - do 't t'gether."

Holly shook her head. "Harry - you're too weak. You can't - No. It would drain you - drain the both of us!"

"Do it. Please." Harry's eyes locked with his sisters, and it was a silent battle of wills. But in the end, Holly relented. When she peeled her eyes away from Harry's her expression went from warm and affectionate to angry and dark.

"This is for Harry," Holly declared to Bellatrix who had been reduced to pathetic whimpering and was still twitching from the lingering effects of the Cruciatus curse.

"Please," Bellatrix babbled pitifully. "My magic. Please, Holly. I can't live like this. I can't! I'm not whole. You have to fix it. I'm broken! I'm broken! Please give me my magic! Give it! Give it back!"

Gris sighed. "Is our little drama coming to an end? It was such a delightful twist too. Better than I could have thought."

Neither Bellatrix nor the twins paid him any heed, but Gris did not care. As Holly made the wand movements to reverse the spell she had cast on Bellatrix, Harry felt magic rushing out from his core, and before long, he blacked out completely. Holly, who had used far more magic than the twins could handle followed him to oblivion shortly after.

-o-

If the twins thought that they had seen the end of the mysterious Dark presence, they were soon proven wrong. In their unconscious state, the familiar-foreign presence had joined them once again. The twins couldn't remember falling asleep. In fact, they couldn't even get a clear sense of where they were, and for some reason, they felt like they were lying in a rather uncomfortable position. But these details were soon forgotten when that simultaneously magnetic and disturbing presence joined them.

'You two aren't what you seem,' the presence's thoughts flitted across their minds. 'I don't understand how our magic can feel so alike. What does any of this mean?'

Of course, in their sleep paralysis, the twins couldn't answer.

'This is maddening!' the presence continued. 'But the two of you are something I cannot ignore. You are significant somehow. I just don't yet know how.' The presence seem to hover near them, and they had a feeling that it was thinking.

'Should I be making use of you somehow? Is this a sign?' The presence drew even nearer, but then flinched away, still unable to understand or accept the twin's love-based magical connection. However, its revulsion was not as strong as before. It acted guarded and hesitant in the face of this unfamiliar emotion, but the twins had the feeling that it might have been curious as well.

'This emotion that surrounds you. It somehow gives you strength and adds to your power,' the presence mused. 'What an odd thing it is. It pains me to be near it. I want to believe that it is a weakness. But as I observe you, I can only conclude that it doesn't weaken you. It makes you stronger.'

The twins had no idea what the familiar-foreignness was referring to. Harry and Holly had had their bond for as long as they could remember. Their love and loyalty to each other was, to them, self-explanatory. They couldn't have comprehended that this strange presence would have no idea about things like love and affection.

'I will need to keep my eye on you. Something is going on here. You two are important somehow.'

The presence did not stay for much longer, and when it left, it seemed burdened by its own weighty thoughts. It was a relief for the twins to finally be able to slip into the blackness of sleep. Whatever strange position of sleep paralysis they were in, they hadn't enjoyed it.

When the twins woke, they were in their familiar bed in the tent, which did not strike them as surprising. What was surprising was that Bellatrix was already awake. Furthermore, she was sitting on a chair by the bed, and a startled (and almost uncertain) look crossed her face when the twins sat up and wished her good morning.

"How are you feeling?" Bellatrix asked guardedly.

"My head feels fuzzy," Harry confessed groggily. "How long have I been sleeping? I can't even remember getting into bed."

"Me neither," Holly chimed, rubbing her eyes blearily.

"It's been about three days. Nearly four," Bellatrix informed them, sounding much more subdued than usual.

The twins gasped, suddenly feeling wide awake. "Four days? What happened?"

"I remember -" Harry furrowed his brow as he searched his memory.

"The Gargoyle-creature!" Holly exclaimed. The twins exchanged glances.

"We found him! Finally. But then -" Harry pursed his lips as his recollection once again became hazy. The twins look up at Bellatrix.

"What happened mama?" Holly queried.

"Did he tell you where the Crystal Cave is?"

An aggravated look flashed across Bellatrix's face. "Yes. He gave me co-ordinates." Her frown deepened. "Muggle co-ordinates."

"So we can head there right away!" Holly enthused.

Bellatrix pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing as if angry. But the expression was not directed at the twins. "Not precisely," Bellatrix admitted. "I may know exactly where the Crystal Cave is located, but I haven't a notion for how to gain entry."

Harry tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that a specific magical ritual is needed to be able to enter the Crystal Cave, and that wretched beast did not know what the ritual was," Bellatrix answered bitterly. "I've been spending the past few days owl-ordering books, but I have discovered nothing. The ritual is so archaic that it can only be found very old and very rare grimoires. I have been sending a flurry of owls to see if any of our connections might have the books, but - you know - old pureblood families guard such tomes rather possessively, as heavily protected family secrets. Our only option may be to go to Durmstrang Institute. Their library may hold a copy of the book I need."

After venting her frustration, the hesitant expression returned to Bellatrix's face. "What - ah - do you remember of what happened?"

"With that - what was it - Gris creature?" Harry attempted to clarify.

Bellatrix nodded. "Yes. What do you recall?"

Harry and Holly's eyes met before they glanced away, Harry up at the ceiling, and Holly at the far wall as they searched their minds with identical looks of concentration. For some reason, it felt as though something significant had happened. But what?

"He was really weird," Holly began.

"Yeah. Like everything was some weird, big joke to him."

"His laugh was really loud. It made the hair on my arm stand up." Holly's lips thinned into a line, recalling the discomfort.

"And he wouldn't stop talking. He was talking about - erm -" Harry knit his brows.

"Evil," Holly finished.

Harry's eyes widened and he looked over at Bellatrix. "He said you were evil, mama! But you're not, right? It's muggles and those that support them them that are evil."

Though Harry sounded certain, Bellatrix only responded with a hum and a tight smile.

"There's more," Holly murmured. She creased her eyebrows, feeling an ache in her head as she tried to clear the mental fog. "He was talking about a price. A price for the Crystal Cave."

Holly's words were jogging some of Harry's memories, and a feeling of nausea was starting to coalesce somewhere behind his lungs, making it difficult to breath. He shook he head, as though trying to shake his thoughts loose. Bellatrix stayed silent, but she was pale now, her cheekbones creating stark shadows on her face. He shifted closer to his sister, and through their link, he could feel a rising storm of anger that confused him and scared it, just a bit.

"The price. It was torture," Holly continued relentlessly. She was staring straight at Bellatrix now, but Bellatrix would not meet their eyes. "He asked you to torture us. And you did. You tortured me."

Bellatrix flinched, and her expression became defensive. "You agreed to it."

"I didn't know it would be like that," Holly answered, her voice cracking as memories returned. Harry squeezed her hand tightly, wishing there was some way he could shield her vulnerability. "And then - and then -" Holly couldn't finish. In part because it was painful to admit to what she had done, but also, because memories of that 'other' side of her were slightly hazier than the rest. All she knew for certain was the Bellatrix wouldn't be hurting her or Harry again. Not if she could help it.

Harry felt just as conflicted as Holly, but for slightly different reasons. He was as horrified by the events that had transpired, but unlike Holly, he hadn't actually experienced the Cruciatus curse, and many of the details were extremely spotty from his exhaustion and his black-outs. He knew that he and Holly had assented to being tortured. In fact - hadn't Holly been tortured? When he tried to remember it, he only felt nausea, but the actual memory remained stubbornly inaccessible. In his heart, he wanted believed that Bellatrix wouldn't have tortured them if they had said 'no.' But then, something happened, and his sister had changed, and had become the One-Who-Kills. Things became even more unclear after that, but there had be a stand-off between her and Bellatrix, creating a new tension between them. In some way, things had irrevocably changed.

"It wasn't my wish to hurt you," Bellatrix stated. "But what's done is done. It's in the past now. So what is it you want from me?"

Harry thought it was an odd question for their mama to ask, but Bellatrix was looking at Holly as she said it. Harry struggled to read Bellatrix's expression. She wasn't looking at either of them like she was their mama anymore. Her face was too guarded, too _respectful_. Bellatrix still had strong feelings for the twins - it was why she hadn't abandoned them after the harrowing showdown. But while Bellatrix might respect the twins, there was no way that she would ever _defer_ to them. No, only the Dark Lord was worthy of that.

"You will not hurt me again. You will not hurt Harry again," Holly said flatly.

Bellatrix gave Holly a curt nod. If a time came where she had to choose between the twins and the Dark Lord again, she would deal with it as it arose. For now, she could agree not to harm the twins. She had never wished to do so in the first place.

There was a heavy feeling of tension in the air, as though two great forces were warring for dominance. Harry couldn't make sense of it. He had to break the tension somehow.

"So -" Harry was embarrassed by how small and uncertain his voice sounded. Especially compared to Holly's firm conviction. "Is everything okay then?"

Bellatrix looked over at Harry and his vulnerability must have been obvious because her tension dissolved the slightest bit. She gave him a tired smile. "Yes, Harry. Everything is all right. We'll be departing for Durmstrang this afternoon. Will you two be ready to go?"

Holly answered with a firm nod while Harry answered with a hesitant one. Bellatrix left the twin's bedside, presumably to get ready. When the twins crawled their way out of bed, they both felt achy and tired from lying down for so long.

"Does mama seem different to you?" Harry questioned his sister. It was obvious that Bellatrix was acting different, but he needed some way to broach the question.

"Yes. She should be."

"Do you really remember everything that happened with that gargoyle-thing? Some of my memories are still hazy," Harry confided. It bothered him that he couldn't remember everything. Perhaps he would understand Holly's and Bellatrix's changes better if he did.

"I think I remember all of it," Holly replied, her eyes dark and troubled. They fell silent for a moment.

"Harry -" Holly bit down on her bottom lip, as though reluctant to share her next thought. "Do - do you still like me?"

"Of course I do!" Harry placed his hands on her shoulders reassuringly, but Holly's gaze was on the wall of the tent and not on him.

"I feel like I'm changing somehow. Are you changing too?"

Harry's brows creased together. "What do you mean?"

Holly looked hurt by the response, and Harry pulled her into a hug.

"I don't know," Holly spoke, a bit brokenly. "I don't know what's happening to me. I want things to go back to how they were. I wish we never came here, to look for the Crystal Cave. I wish we were still best friends with Draco. I'm scared about what's going to happen. Mama was looking at me like I was - like I was a grown-up or something. I'm not an grown-up!"

Harry had no idea of how to respond. He could only hold his sister, letting her feelings pour into him, while he sent out warm and gentle reassurance through their twin bond. Holly might seem strong, and be capable of remarkable acts of magic. But so too was Harry, even if it manifested differently. Harry knew he had to find a way to remain strong for his sister's sake. He would protect her, no matter the cost.

There wasn't very much that the twins were able to do to prepare. Most of the work was done by either the house-elf or Bellatrix. How would they be getting to Durmstrang anyway? The twins did not even know where the famous wizarding school was.

Since Holly had no desire to speak to Bellatrix, it was up to Harry to approach her. He found her in the open area of the tent, organizing and putting her books away into the magic trunk. Bellatrix was standing with her arms crossed, and her expression mildly irritated as books flew across her face to allow her to read the titles, before flying to their proper places in the trunk's shelves.

Harry approached her hesitantly. "Mama?"

She looked down at him with a wary smile. "Yes, Harry?"

"How are we getting to Durmstrang? Are we taking Hamal and Sheratan?"

Bellatrix blinked, and then began to laugh. "Oh, Merlin - taking the - Oh Merlin, no! Ha. Could you imagine how long that would take? Ah, no, I suppose not, since you don't know where Durmstrang is, and Igor has been so careful to keep their location a secret." Bellatrix flashed her teeth in a predatory grin, and for a moment, Harry thought she seemed more like 'herself' again. "Ah, Igor. Just wait until I get my hands on that little traitor. The things I'm going to do -"

Harry had no idea what tangent Bellatrix had gone off on. "So, we're not taking Hamal and Sheratan?"

"We're apparating there, Harry."

Harry knit his brows together. "But we'll still be taking Hamal and Sheratan - right? We're not going to just leave them - are we, mama?"

"We can hardly bring -" Bellatrix's words died on her lips when she noticed Harry's eyes beginning to look suspiciously shiny. He was six? No, seven now. It shouldn't have been a surprise to her that the twins would end up so attached to a ridiculous pair of creatures like the hitzetiers.

Bellatrix searched the tent room and her eyes fell upon Holly who was a short distance away. The girl's eyes were mistrustful, but not angry. Yet. Bellatrix did not want to admit to fearing Holly. So, she ignored the creeping chill that swept down her spine, and did not think about the next words that came out of her mouth. She ripped her gaze away from Holly, and looked down at Harry. Harry with his big, green, beseeching eyes. His soulful, almost-glowing, pleading eyes.

"We'll have the house-elf apparate those blasted goats." Bellatrix blinked. She hadn't meant to say that. She had meant to assert her dominance in this situation.

But then, Harry was flinging his arms around her waist, saying: "Thank you mama! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" His words were muffled by her robes. Bellatrix patted Harry's back hesitantly, chancing a glance over at Holly. The girl's expression remained mistrustful, but she didn't look angry.

Finally, all the books were sorted and put away, and it was time to shrink down the tent. The house-elf, which would have normally already been shut away in its special compartment in the trunk was standing a short distance away, hovering near the placid-looking hitzetiers.

"Harry, Holly, come here." Bellatrix beckoned for the twins to stand next to her. "You'll have to hold on tight for side-apparition. You remember, yes? We'll be making multiple jumps again."

Harry was already clutching Bellatrix's side, but Holly opted to take her arm, as though determined to maintain as much distance as possible from the older woman. Bellatrix turned her head to the house-elf, narrowing her eyes at it. She had already told the house-elf what it needed to do. She wouldn't repeat her orders. From the way the house-elf was quailing, it appeared to understand.

In the next moment, the twins felt themselves being sickeningly pressed from all sides, and with a loud crack, they were gone.

-o-

By the time that Bellatrix and the twins arrived at a small village outside Durmstrang, they were all magically exhausted. The house-elf arrived with the stressed-looking hitzetiers only seconds later. As before, Bellatrix had made use of the twin's magic, thanks to the connection forged by the blood adoption ritual. Though it had been tempting to apparate straight to the fortress of Durmstrang itself, Bellatrix did not want to face the headmaster, Igor Karkaroff when she wasn't at full strength. After all, Karkaroff had turned his back on the Dark Lord after the war had ended. Many of the Dark Lord's followers would be out for Karkaroff's blood after the man gave up their names during the post-war trials.

The small wizarding village that Bellatrix and the twins had arrived at was a cheerful sight amidst the green, late-summer landscape. It was named Tysbastval for the purple wildflowers that grew in profusion around the valley. The roofs of the buildings seemed to be made of some sort of bright reddish-brown material, and the wood sidings of buildings were painted either buttery-yellow, creamy white, or salmon-pink. With a school name like Durmstrang, the twins had been expecting the local village to be more austere. They were pleasantly surprised by the sight that greeted them, and if they weren't so exhausted, they would have loved to explore.

Bellatrix and the twins entered the local pub, and ordered up a hot meal. The only thing that sounded as good as a mountain of food, was a soft and fluffy bed. Though the twins were curious about the local inn, they knew that Bellatrix would prefer the luxuries of the tent. Nonetheless, something about being in a wizarding village - about being amongst people that Bellatrix had no desire to torture and kill - livened up the twin's spirits.

That night, Harry fell into an easy sleep, nestled between Bellatrix and his sister. Though his sister used to like being as near to Bellatrix as Harry once did, she now refused to touch the older woman if she didn't have to. Holly didn't even feel comfortable being in the same bed, but she tolerated it for her brother's sake. They were already living a life with so few familiar elements. To Harry, Bellatrix was like an anchor of sorts.

While Harry's sleep was restful, Holly's was not. Harry found himself being pulled from his own placid dream into Holly's nightmare. His dreamself desperately called out Holly's name, sending forth as much love and comfort as he could to his sister, whose dreamself kept hiding away from whatever monstrosities were chasing her. It took a while for Harry to find Holly. She was shut away - of all places - in the cupboard under the stairs where the muggles had locked the twins up.

"No!" Holly's dreamself had whimpered. "Don't take me out there! She'll see me! She'll hurt me!"

Harry didn't ask who this 'she' was. He only gathered his sister close to him, letting his magic wash over her.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," Harry soothed. "No one is going to hurt you if I can help it. I'll take them down myself. I promise."

When Holly finally calmed down, the ominous feeling faded away into the gentle strangeness of an ordinary dream, and then, black oblivion.

Though Bellatrix was impatient to storm Durmstrang and confront Karkaroff (though her first priority was actually Durmstrang's library), she decided it would be best to rest a few days. Bellatrix might have been reckless and rash, but she was aware that Durmstrang was Karkaroff's territory, not her own. The location of Durmstrang was, in actual fact, unplottable. It was thanks to Bellatrix's connections and fortune that she even knew where Durmstrang was. And while Bellatrix was certain that she could handle Karkaroff in a one-on-one situation, it was unlikely that she could dominate him if he had support.

With this in mind, Bellatrix decided that she would bring the twins along. Holly might not be happy with her, but Bellatrix couldn't imagine that the twins would choose to support a stranger over supporting herself. And while Bellatrix might deny that she feared the twins, she was sharply aware of their considerable magical power; especially if they remained in physical contact. But before any of that could occur, the twins were able to spend a couple of carefree days in Tysbastval.

Being so close to Durmstrang, Tysbastval had quite a number of shops that appealed to younger crowds. It had a sweet shop that could rival anything at Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, but since the twins had never been to either of those places, their young minds were struck with awe by the sight of so much chocolate and candy. There were liquorice wands in every colour of the rainbow. There were apple drops, and pear drops, and peach drops, and berry drops, and quince drops and current drops. There were chocolate frogs, cockroach clusters, fudge flies, ice mice, sugar quills, and all manner of other things that the twins had never seen or heard of before. It was spectacular, like some sort of holy land of sugar. With Bellatrix's complete disregard for the value of galleons (or health), she allowed the the twins to purchase whatever they wanted. Which turned out to be almost one of everything.

Then, there was the joke and toy store. The twins might have never considered the concept of playing a prank. But as soon as they entered Tysbastval's joke and toy store, it was as if the imagination of every child had exploded into tangible solidity. There were prank candies galore that had all kinds of effects: making someone ill, making someone laugh, making someone dance, making someone have uncontrollable flatulence. There were teddies that partook in tea parties, toy soldiers that waged their own wars, miniature hot air balloons that drifted this way and that, and fluttering little plush birds that sang at them. There were cans that exploded into rainbow candy confetti, or butterflies, or flowers, or for some reason, dung. The twins never wanted to leave.

As for Hamal and Sheratan, their hitzetiers, the goats were left free to graze at the outskirts of the village, but seemed to attract all kinds of attention. The twins had never really had the chance to interact with many children their own age (aside from their horrible muggle cousin and Draco.) At first, Harry and Holly had felt shy around the other children. But when the children exhibited nothing but open curiosity about the heat-radiating silvery hitzetiers, the twins were all too happy to show off their clever pets. They even allowed the other children to ride the sweet-natured goats. It was the most light-hearted that the twins had felt, since leaving Malfoy manor.

But all too soon, it was time to pack up their tent, and enter the fortress that was Durmstrang Institute. It was the very last days of August. Soon, school would be back in session, but Bellatrix was indifferent to the schedule of others. As far as she was concerned, only one schedule mattered: her own. And the one and only plan she had set was to find the Dark Lord. She would let nothing, not even the start of classes at one of Europe's top institutions, stand in her way of getting what she desired.

Bellatrix had informed the twins that they were leaving the hitzetiers in Tysbastval, telling them that there might not be anywhere for the creatures to graze on school grounds. She had also made an odd comment about Harry's thick hair ("it almost covers your eyes. I can't even see your scar through it, though I suppose that's a good thing") but Harry brushed it aside as a gesture of affection, since she had been running her fingers through his hair as she said it.

Bellatrix wasn't certain of how long she would be staying at Durmstrang, but if the magical ritual that she was searching for was difficult to find, it could very well be a while. Yet, it was an absolute necessity. She had sacrificed too much to find the location of the Crystal Cave, and if this magical ritual was what she needed to enter the cave, then nothing was going to stop her from finding it.

On that fateful day, Bellatrix apparated with the twins to the border edge of Durmstrang. It was one of the only ways into the unplottable school, which was surrounded by anti-apparition spells. They would need to walk the rest of the way.

The twins eyes widened as they beheld the fortress of Durmstrang. It was a four story castle, of austere dark stone, and rectangular in shape. To one side, they could see a vast lake, and further beyond, the castle was framed by imposing mountains. Having never seen Hogwarts before, the twins had no comparison to make with the fortress of Durmstrang. It was completely unlike Malfoy manor. While Malfoy manor might have been imposing due to its opulence, Durmstrang was imposing in an almost ominous way. It felt as though one had to _earn_ the right to simply be here. Harry and Holly held tight to each other's hands, feeling intimidated.

Unaware of the twin's trepidation, Bellatrix strode towards the main gates of the castle with her proud and fearless gait. Upon her face was a predatory smile, and her dark eyes gleamed with vicious determination. There was nothing Bellatrix hated quite as much as those who had betrayed or turned their back on the Dark Lord. Certainly, she loathed those on the Light side of the war, and disdained muggleborns and blood traitors alike. But she passionately abhorred those like Igor Karkaroff, even worse than witches and wizards like Lucius who had taken the coward's path. Bellatrix wanted Karkaroff in agony. She wanted him to cry and beg, on bloody knees, for the Dark Lord's forgiveness. Unfortunately, she needed to make use of him for his school's library, so the pathetic worm would have to be allowed to live. For now.

Though the school may have looked like a fortress, it was, in the end, still just a school, so there was no one guarding the gates. Much like Hogwarts, few of the staff remained at the school over the summer holidays, but because classes would soon be starting, many of the teachers had already begun settling in for the upcoming year. Bellatrix had never been in Durmstrang before, but she knew where she was headed. She had studied maps of the school's layout prior to her arrival. While she was not adverse to a little exploring, she wanted to find Karkaroff as quickly as possible. If he was aware of her presence, he would be taking measures to protect himself against her.

Bellatrix's rapid pace made it hard for the twins to observe their surroundings. Mostly, they were aware of dark, barren stone walls, with very few decorative and defining interior features. The windows were regular in interval, and were tall and narrow, letting in cold-looking beams of light. Beneath their feet, the dark stone floors were worn smooth from thousands of feet. The twins felt like it would be easy to get lost in a castle such as this one.

The twins could hear distant voices within the castle, but Bellatrix ignored them. If anyone got in her way, she would deal with them when the situation arose. Bellatrix turned a corner, making her way through an isolated dark corridor, lit only by the windows and climbed up a set of side stairs. Neither the corridor nor the stairs were illuminated with lamps or torches - for much of the route, the twins were relying on the light of Bellatrix's wand to see. The walked the length of another long corridor.

Turning yet another corner, Bellatrix came to an open area, with high, dark ceilings, and an immense dragon head mounted on one of the walls. It was the only notable feature of this vast space. Upon seeing the dragon head, Bellatrix smirked. With a flick her of wand hand, Bellatrix cast the glowing ball of light off the tip of her wand, so that it floated above their heads. Then, lifting her arm to point at the dragon head, she cast a wordless spell, sending off of beam of dark greenish light.

The twins were not aware of this, but Bellatrix knew that the entry into the headmaster's office was power itself. Durmstrang Institute, unlike Hogwarts, rewarded the strong. The school implemented harsh and ruthless policies, created to weed out not only those with impure blood, but those who were magically weak. If one wished to speak to the headmaster of Durmstrang, one had to cast a sufficiently powerful spell at the dragon head before the doorway would open. Karkaroff, Durmstrang's headmaster, did not have time to spare for for those that he deemed unworthy.

As Bellatrix's spell hit the dragon head, it appeared to come alive. Its black eyes took on an unearthly glow, while baring its long, deadly teeth. The dragon head looked as though it was tasting the spell that Bellatrix had cast. The enchantments on the dragon head considered not only the spell itself, but the age and experience of the caster, before judging whether the spell was powerful enough to deserve passage. It was highly advanced and complex magic.

The dragon head let out a small lick of flame, showing its satisfaction, and on the blank stretch of wall beneath it, a massive set of wooden doors appeared, opening inwards into the headmaster's office. The room within had a flickering glow, as if lit by the warmth and light of a roaring hearth. A bubbling sound of glee escaped from Bellatrix's lips. From within the room, the twins could hear a masculine voice calling out, but they did not recognize the language, and Bellatrix had not used another translation charm. But Bellatrix was already walking forward, and not wanting to be left behind in the darkness, the twins followed her.

They entered in a room that was unlike the rest of the castle. Thick, luxurious rugs covered the stone floor, and intricate tapestries showing dramatic scenes covered the walls. The furniture looked like they were all upholstered with the skin of some sort of magical beast. One of the far walls was lined with wooden bookcases, packed with rare and expensive books, or holding powerful artifacts. And indeed, there was an immense fireplace that took up almost the entire length of one of the other walls.

A tall and thin man with frigid blue eyes, who had been sitting on one of the arm chairs, quickly stood up as soon as he saw Bellatrix. His eyes went wide with dismay, as he recognized the face of the striking, dark-haired woman before him.

"You!" he gasped, in English. "How did you get in here? How did you find the school?"

Bellatrix's eyelids fell to half-mast, and a slow smile spread across her beautiful face. "Hello, Igor," Bellatrix purred. "It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been thinking of all the things I've wanted to do, if I ever laid my eyes upon you again. Would you like to hear?"

-o-

Harry and Holly watched as Igor Karkaroff's expression changed to one of indisputable horror. He didn't bother to answer Bellatrix's taunt. Instead, he whipped out his wand with the speed of a striking scorpion, shouting: "Avada Kedavra!"

There was a burst of brilliant green light which Bellatrix easily dodged, cackling all the while. Even the twins leaped away from the beam of the killing curse, their reflexes sharp from a mix of earlier training with Bellatrix, as well as hunting.

Without missing a beat, Karkaroff's fired off another spell, desperate to make a hit and take down Bellatrix. As for Bellatrix, her eyes were shining with glee and excitement, as though nothing could bring her more pleasure than a potentially fatal duel. But Bellatrix had always been a masterful dueller. If her heart rate was elevated, it was more to do with exertion and excitement rather than fear. That said, Karkaroff was still a highly skilled opponent.

As Karkaroff cast yet another spell, Bellatrix leisurely cast one in turn. It missed the headmaster, but caused a chunk of the far wall to split apart, causing bits of stone to litter the floor. They circled one another, at opposite sides of the room, the furniture like a barrier between them. The twins remained watchful and guarded by the doorway.

"Has the position of headmaster made you sluggish and complaisant?" Bellatrix mocked. "I remember your reflexes being much faster when you were still loyal to the Dark Lord." She threw a wordless curse which Karkaroff barely escaped. It hit one of the tapestries which burst apart into confetti-like threads.

"You are a fool, LeStrange!" Karkaroff snarled. "It's only a matter of time before the other teachers get here. The castle can detect when offensive spells are cast in this office."

Bellatrix laughed gaily. "The more the merrier, Igor. Besides, I have my own support."

Karkaroff did a quick scan of the room but all he had seen were a pair of young children. Was there someone else here who was disillusioned? A sick feeling of dread made him feel as though the air had been vanished from the room.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Bellatrix sending another curse his way, and as it grazed his shoulder, he cried out as the spell burned and melted his skin like acid. Though the spell was localized, he could feel a burning feeling creeping through his veins.

Bellatrix bared her teeth in menacing grin. "Did you like that one? It's one of the mildest ones I know. We wouldn't want this lovely little engagement to end too soon, now would we? What would be the fun of that?" She ducked away from a flash of purple light, as graceful as a dancer. The spell hit the corner of the sofa instead, causing pieces of wood and upholstery to fly across the room.

Harry watched the duel, his heart pattering in his chest and his breaths shallow. He had seen Bellatrix engage in practice duels before - it was how she alleviated her stress when they were still living in Malfoy manor. But this was the first serious duel he had ever seen and the experience was completely different from watching Bellatrix torment and kill muggles. When Bellatrix was facing muggles, Harry never got the sense that she was ever in any danger. But while Bellatrix was a better fighter than Karkaroff, this was still an incredibly dangerous situation. He longed to surge forward and help his mama. But staying by Holly was far more important.

As for Holly, witnessing the duel made her uneasy for different reasons. She no longer trusted Bellatrix, but if Bellatrix were gone, what would become of her and Harry? If Gris had been correct, and Bellatrix was evil, then at least Bellatrix was a familiar evil. With Bellatrix, Holly knew what to expect, even if what she expected was bad.

The twins were distracted from the fight by the sound of footsteps and voices in the hall outside the office. They edged away from the door as a group of adults burst into the room, their wands drawn.

Harry knew that they were here to stop Bellatrix - he had been listening to Bellatrix's and Karkaroff's conversation after all. The idea that all these people would be trying to hurt his mama was enough to drive him to act on his protective instincts. Drawing forth his wand and barely even noticing the oiliness, he began to throw stunning and immobilization spells. The teachers, who had not even seen the diminutive twins, were caught off guard so that two of them were effectively taken down.

The remaining teachers - five of them - turned to face the new threat, and were taken aback by the sight of the two children. Attacking an adult was one thing, but attacking children was another. Besides, they could see that their comrades were immobilized, not hurt or dead.

One of the teachers called out something in a language that the twins did not understand before pointing his wand at the twins. The man intoned the words of a spell, but the twins managed to vault out of the way, leaping in opposite directions so that they were split up. If the twins had been taught structured spellwork, like the magic that was taught at Hogwarts and Durmstrang, they would have known that the man had attempted to cast a stunning spell. The twins had even had lessons in Latin, so they should have understood the meaning of the spell. However, all the twins were aware of was that they were being attacked. The did not think of taking the time to try and understand the hostile looking adults.

Holly had been reluctant to engage herself in the situation. Unlike Harry, she did not feel driven to come to Bellatrix's aid. However, she refused to tolerate any attacks on her brother or herself. Harry may have made the first move by striking at the adults, but they had struck back.

If Holly had been able to remain calm and detached, if she hadn't felt threatened, the Darkness within her would not have risen. In her more 'normal' state, she was just as good at Harry at immobilization spells, even if her reflexes weren't as quick. But the sight of these tall and seemingly menacing people, speaking in an unfamiliar language, caused Holly's internal alarms to scream. The Darkness descended, more quickly than ever, and Holly was distantly aware of Harry crying out as his scar pierced him with merciless pain.

Holly pulled her wand from her pocket, pointing it forward in an offencive stance. One of the teachers gasped, but her eyes were not on Holly - they were fixed upon the wand, as if horrified by the magical tool itself. The female teacher murmured something, flicking her gaze between Harry's wand and Holly's wand, while shaking her head as though wanting to deny the sight before her. But her comrades paid her no heed, more concerned about the danger before them.

"You dare to attack Harry? You dare to attack me?" Holly's voice was laden with danger. One of the teachers gave her an odd look, evidently understanding English. Another stunning spell was flung at Holly, almost grazing her, while the teachers threw up shield spells to block the barrage of stunners and body binds from Harry.

"You will suffer for your insolence," Holly high voice was almost a growl. She acted indifferent to the teachers' body language - to her, they were all simply enemies.

With the Darkness upon her, it wouldn't have been possible for Holly to restrain herself, and stick to simply using stunning spells like Harry. As she was, she wanted _blood_. But separated from Harry, the power of her spells were limited. Who then, among these strangers, presented the greatest threat? In the end, Holly decided to attack the person that was closest to her. Trying to dodge spells was wearing away her stamina,and she was already so _angry_.

With a furious cry, Holly slashed her wand upwards and an ominous beam of coppery light shot forth, striking the man. He blinked wondering what sort of spell he had been hit with. But then, an expression of wide-eyed terror crossed his face. Pin-prick spots of blood appeared all over his body, seemingly small wounds, but so numerous that his skin changed from a pale brown to a slick red in a matter of seconds. The other teachers looked at their fallen comrade, aghast. This was Durmstrang, and all the teachers were familiar with Dark Magic. And what they had seen was _Dark_.

One of the teachers kneeled by the side of the bleeding man, speaking frantically to the others as they attempted to cast a spell to stop the bleeding. The rest of the teachers were looking at Holly as if she had peeled off her face and revealed a grotesque monster beneath, like a dementor or a nundu - some creature of pure Darkness and carnage. Fortunately for the teachers, the spell had used most of Holly's magical energy. Though her wand was still pointed at them threateningly, she was significantly weakened.

However, the teachers were not aware of this. Instead, all of them aimed their wands at Holly, determined to neutralize the danger. No matter what she did - move left or right, or to the front or back - there was no way she could escape.

"Don't hurt her!" Harry cried out, trying to draw their attention away from his sister. He began to cast more stunning and binding spells, but the teachers were able to bring up shields to deflect his spells, and send their own stunners to keep him away.

He made a sound of frustration and fury. "Get away from her!"

The teachers seemed to determine that Harry was no real threat. Though they kept their eye on him, ready to use a shield spell if needed, they closed in on Holly, who looked like she wanted to gut them with the antipathy in her eyes alone. Frantically, Holly jabbed her wand towards one of the teachers, sending forth a beam of dark green light, but the teacher was prepared, and dodged the spell. Holly whimpered furiously. The teachers knew that they had her.

A voice suddenly sliced through the tension. "Get away from the girl," Bellatrix commanded from the other side of the room.

Everyone in the room turned to look towards her, and Bellatrix gave them a smile full of amusement, as though everything that had occurred was one big joke. Karkaroff was on his back on the floor, his wand in Bellatrix's hands.

Karkaroff called something out to the teachers, his voice sounding hoarse and frantic, and whatever he had said convinced them to lower their wands. As soon as they did, Harry rushed towards his sister. Though she was desperate to hide her weakness, she could not help leaning her weight on her brother.

"Very good," Bellatrix purred. Her eyes slid over to Holly, as if checking to see if the girl was okay. Holly scowled. Though Bellatrix may have just saved her, it was also Bellatrix who dragged them to Durmstrang in the first place. Holly wouldn't forgive her adopted mother quite so easily.

"Best you all leave me here to my business with dear Igor," Bellatrix continued in her self-satisfied voice. "It looks like that poor fellow over there on the ground needs immediate medical attention, don't you think?"

A female teacher, who understood English, nodded at Bellatrix and relayed her words to the other teachers. Carefully, they levitated the man, and a pair of them dashed out of the room, hoping that he wouldn't bleed out before they reached the infirmary. Two teachers remained, watching Bellatrix or Holly with guarded expressions.

"What is your business here?" The female teacher asked, her blue eyes frosty.

"Purely academic, of course," Bellatrix answered with a chortle, as though amused by her own joke. "Nothing to do with _you_. Right, Igor?"

Karkaroff spoke more in that unfamiliar language, and the female teacher's eyes hardened. She replied to him, her voice sounded uncertain, but in the end, she nodded. Finally, the remaining teachers turned to leave, and it was once again just Bellatrix and the twins with a now-defeat looking Igor Karkaroff.

Bellatrix looked down at Karkaroff with a smile that could almost be described as indulgent. "That was fun, wasn't it? I always feel much better after a good duel."

Karkaroff sneered, but the look lost much of its impact due to Karkaroff's position on the ground. "What do you want, LeStrange? If you're here to kill me, then just do it quickly and cease your pointless blathering."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Tsk, tsk. Is that any way to greet a guest? While the idea of your death is wonderfully tempting - almost as tempting is the idea of torturing you to mindless, drooling insanity -" Bellatrix leered cruelly, "- that's not why I'm here today. As a matter of fact, I think you ought to be pleased to see me. Especially when you hear what I have to say."

As Bellatrix leaned over Karkaroff in a mockingly dominating stance in order to 'convince' him of the merit of allowing her free reign of the Durmstrang library, Harry murmured: "Are you all right, Holly?"

Harry's scar was still aching intensely, and it took all his effort to try and ignore the pain, but Holly was more important. It alarmed him to see how laboured her breathing was, and how ashen her skin tone.

"I'm so - angry," Holly gritted out, her voice halting as though she was too weary to speak. "I - hate - them all - so much."

Harry bit down on his lower lip, trying to contain the fresh stab of pain in his scar. Holly's words didn't frighten him, but they worried him. It wasn't like Holly to be hateful.

"Mama made them all go away," he attempted to reassure her.

"I - _hate_ \- her too," Holly hissed. Her words sounded even more laboured than ever, but her green eyes flashed with an eerie fire.

Harry had no idea of what to say to that. He hated the idea that his sister might hate his mama, but he wasn't about to start an argument with her. Besides, his scar hurt so much, that he wouldn't be able to think of anything helpful to say. Instead, he reached for her hand, clasping it in his own. But when he felt the hot, sticky wetness, he gasped.

"Holly! You're bleeding!"

Holly swayed, leaning more of her weight against him. He lifted her hand up to examine it, and as the sleeve of her robes fell back to reveal her arms, he was horrified to see that she was covered in large bruises and deep gashes. After the spells she had cast, the backlash from her wand had been horrifically severe. Harry was aching and itching, and he felt a few stings, but his state was nowhere near as bad as Holly's. Holly wavered again, and Holly released her hand to try and catch her, but her legs seemed unable to hold her weight and she crumbled.

"Holly!" Harry exclaimed. "Mama! You have to help her! Something's wrong with Holly!"

Bellatrix, who had been in the middle of telling Karkaroff how he would not only _allow_, but also _aid_ her in her search of the library, stopped mid-sentence, and peered towards the twins, annoyed at the interruption.

Lifting up her wand, she pointed it at an armchair, and with a burst of purplish light, the article of furniture melted into a ghastly smelling sludge. One of the professors - the female one that spoke English - burst into the headmaster's office not a second after.

Bellatrix smirked at the teacher. "I had the feeling that at least one of you were waiting outside the door, ready to aid your beloved Igor. Fear not, only his ugly furniture suffered any mishaps. Now if you don't mind, take those two to the infirmary and tend to their wounds. You've had a small taste of what they're capable of, but believe me, they can do so much more, so don't get any ideas."

The female professor looked over at the twins, and her blue eyes softened by a fraction. She nodded in assent. Cautiously, she walked towards the twins, carefully avoiding the scraps of furniture and rubble that dotted the office floor. Harry held Holly protectively against his chest, his green eyes glaring at the professor with mistrust.

"I will not hurt you," the professor informed him, her voice more matter-of-fact than gentle.

Harry looked towards Bellatrix pleadingly, as though needing affirmation from his mama, but Bellatrix had returned to giving taunting looks to a flushed and humiliated Karkaroff. He looked down at this sister, attempting to heal her himself, but he was just so _drained_.

"Your sister needs immediate medical attention," the professor intoned. "I will levitate her now."

Pulling out her wand, the professor cast a spell that caused Holly's body to float. Holly whimpered pitifully, but it was more from the way that Harry wouldn't let her go, than it was from being levitated. As Holly weakened, the pain his Harry's scar receded. Realizing that he couldn't do anything for his sister, Harry reluctantly released her. He gave one final glance towards Bellatrix, but the woman was too engrossed in lording her domination over Karkaroff. Turning to look up to the female professor, he gave her a nod, as if to say: 'lead the way.'

The female professor's answering nod was just as grave and serious. With a flick of her wand, Holly's body hovered behind her, and the three of them left the headmaster's office, making their way to Durmstrang's infirmary.

-o-

Durmstrang's infirmary was a vast room on the first floor of the castle that was as austere as the rest of the building. The windows were narrow but tall, and it was unadorned, like most of the castle; furthermore, it was just as chilly. However, unlike the rest of the castle, the infirmary was well lit with torches along every wall. There were two rows of metal-frame beds along the walls, but since the school year had not yet begun, the infirmary was empty except for one curtained-off bed which held the professor that Holly had attacked. A frazzled looking mediwizard popped his head out from behind the curtain and walked forward when he saw the professor and the twins.

The mediwizard was dark-haired, with chocolate-brown skin, a neat-looking greyish beard and metal-framed oval glasses perched on his wide nose. His expression became troubled when the female professor brought in a now-unconscious Holly - he wasn't expecting to have to do any healing until students arrived at the school, and now, he had two patients on his hands. But his training immediately kicked in, and in that same unfamiliar language, he directed Holly to the nearest bed.

Between waving his wand over Holly and uttering diagnostic spells, the man asked the professor a series of questions, which she did her best to answer. Harry tuned both of them out, hovering by Holly's side with her hand between both of his own, trying to reach her with his magic. Once again, he was in the awful position of being conscious while Holly was not. There was something about not being able to feel Holly's presence that was unnerving down to the very marrow of his bones. He felt somehow incomplete - almost broken without her.

"Has this happened before?"

Harry blinked and it was a while before he realized that the female professor had directed the question at him. Harry looked up at the woman and nodded, his lips pursed, and his eyes woefully tragic. The woman relayed this inform to the mediwizard.

"When has this happened before?" the professor asked.

Harry hesitated before speaking. "When we use our magic. See?" Harry released Holly's hand and pulled up the sleeves on his robes, showing his bruised and rash-covered arm, with its own small cuts. It was nowhere near as bad as Holly's limbs, but it was an ugly sight. "It's not usually this bad, though. Only one other time, I think. Usually mama fixes us, or we fix ourselves." He lowered his sleeve and took Holly's hand again.

The professor grimaced. She relayed the information to the mediwizard, whose brow furrowed, before he gave a quick nod. He said a series of spells, and the cuts sealed themselves up, leaving unscarred skin. He trotted over to the potions cupboard and fetched some bruise salve, which he applied on Holly's numerous bruises. The man then said something to Harry, but Harry only shook his head, not understanding.

"He will heal your cuts," the professor informed him. Harry looked at her uncertainly, before nodding. The mediwizard said a spell, and the burning itch across Harry's limbs subsided. He hadn't realized how uncomfortable it had been until it was gone, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank you, sir," Harry uttered to the mediwizard. Though the twins may have spent the past half-year roving across Europe with almost no wizarding contact, Bellatrix had still continued their lessons in comportment, so that their manners remained impeccable.

Seeming to understand, the mediwizard gave Harry a nod. He said something to the professor, and the professor turned to Harry, saying: "You can lie down in the bed next to her. You are magically drained and need rest."

Harry shook his head, his lower lip jutted out stubbornly. "I'm not leaving Holly."

"No one is making you leave your sister. She will likely be asleep for the next few days. It is for your own good, boy," the professor intoned. But Harry only shook his head again.

The mediwizard clucked his tongue, as though understanding Harry's intentions, but he did not force the green-eyed boy away from his sister. After saying a few more words to the professor, the mediwizard strode away, returned to the injured professor behind the curtain. The female professor remained by Holly's bedside, across from Harry.

Harry paid no heed to the professor, his attention entirely fixed on Holly. He couldn't stop thinking about Holly's words - about her claim that she hated Bellatrix. Once again, he found himself regretting the fact that he couldn't remember the entire exchange between Gris, Bellatrix and Holly. Something incredibly important had happened at that moment. He had a vague idea of what it was - he recalled the feeling of unbelievable power between him and Holly. And yet, that bit of recollection was not enough. Why did things have to be so complicated? Though it felt treacherous, Harry wished they had never left Malfoy manor to find the Dark Lord in the first place. Then, none of this would have happened.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted when the professor suddenly asked: "Why did your mother come here to Durmstrang?"

Harry looked away from his sister to the professor, startled by the question. His hand tightened over Holly's and his expression became guarded. He had no reason to trust any of the adults here. They had attacked Bellatrix as well as him and Holly. The professor must have seen the stubbornness of his expression, because she shook her head and sighed.

"If you have need for anything, you can call for the mediwizard, or for the house-elves." With that, the professor turned around and left the infirmary.

At some point, Harry had crawled into Holly's bed and had fallen asleep. When he awoke, it was to a feeling of disorientation and an infinitely vast and desolate loneliness. Holly was still unconscious. It was one of the worst ways to ever wake up, and one of the worst things he had ever felt. In that moment, Harry almost thought that he'd rather be dead than be without Holly. Having rested, he sent his magic towards her, desperate to heal and strengthen her, until he himself was aching and drained. He faded out of consciousness and into the sweet mercy of unconscious nothingness.

When Harry next awoke, it was at the same time as Holly, and a feeling of indescribable relief flooded him, causing him to hug Holly tightly, as if he hadn't seen her in years. Holly couldn't resist the feeling, and she hugged him back, sensing both his previous distress as well as his current feeling of deep gratitude.

Their waking must have triggered some sort of silent alarm, because Durmstrang's mediwizard made his way to their bed and began to cast diagnostic spells.

"You two have been quite a lot of trouble for me, and I say this as someone who is accustomed to healing injuries caused by Dark Magic," the mediwizard informed them, and Harry was surprised to understand the man. "Ah - yes - we can understand one another now. Translation charms have been cast on all of us - a superior and refined charm, created by one of our staff. Better for dealing with _that woman_."

Harry wondered if 'that woman' was referring to Bellatrix.

"How are you two feeling?" the mediwizard inquired. "I tried to separate you into your own beds, you know, but your healing slowed significantly - you almost seemed to worsen, so I had to break my own rules and permit you two to sleep together." He was shaking his head as he said this, as though he couldn't believe his own misfortune.

"I feel -" Harry began.

"Tired," Holly finished. Harry nodded in affirmation.

The mediwizard made a noise of disapproval. "No surprise. That's what happens when one uses too much of their body's magic. And I have a feeling that it wasn't the first time for either of you." His brows knit together. "Bad business. Bad business indeed to let those as young as yourself have free reign to magic. Your bodies are still developing. It's an immense strain on your systems. You'll be pleased to know that it will not affect your future magical development. But I must insist that you cease your magical usage before you do some sort of permanent injury to yourselves."

Harry and Holly shared a look. They had never considered stopping their magical training. The idea wasn't unappealing. While they liked magic, their wands felt so _awful_. It would be nice to have a break from that sickening and disturbingly pleasurable greasiness. But Harry felt that the decision wasn't his to make - it was Bellatrix who insisted on it. As for Holly, she wasn't sure what to think.

"I don't know," Harry muttered.

The mediwizard arched his dark eyebrows. "I assume that _that woman_ was the one who has been teaching you magic?"

Harry and Holly nodded. The mediwizard frowned, deep lines bracketing his mouth. The twins thought they heard him mutter something like: 'Crazy Brits,' but they weren't certain.

"Hmm. Well, it appears that both of you are healing up well. I imagine that you're hungry - I'll have a house-elf bring you both some food."

"Thank you," the twins chimed.

The mediwizard nodded. "Is there anything else?"

The twins looked at one another before looking back at the mediwizard. "Erm - our mama -" Harry ventured.

The mediwizard grimaced. "She came by to see you two this morning. But she spends her day in the library. I can have one of the students escort you there later. However -" the man's mouth thinned, and his expression looked a bit troubled. "- You should know that the school year has started. The halls will be quite busy and - hm - it's important for you to understand that Durmstrang is nothing like your Hogwarts." The man sighed. "I suppose it's up to me to explain though this was never meant to be my job."

The twin's expression became perplexed. Neither of them knew much about Hogwarts, except that it was the magical school they would attend when they were older. They tilted their heads, as if saying to the mediwizard: 'continue.'

"Of course, there are the differences that everyone is aware of: unlike Hogwarts, Durmstrang only admits pure-blood students, and Durmstrang teaches the Dark Arts. However, beyond that, Durmstrang has a completely different school culture than either Hogwarts or the French school Beauxbatons." The mediwizard waited until the twins nodded before he continued. "Durmstrang's philosophy is that it wants to create only the strongest witches and wizards in all of Europe. The school doesn't believe in some of the softer notions of acceptance and helping the weak. Weakness is seen as a diseased limb that needs to be removed. Durmstrang is about pushing students to become the best. This means that competition is a pillar of Durmstrang's school culture. Furthermore, cleverness is awarded, and most of the teachers are willing to look the other way when students engage in questionable actions."

"Notions such as bullying are rarely taken seriously unless they result in serious and permanent injury or death," the mediwizard continued to explain. "Inter-student aggressiveness and the formation of factions are subtly encouraged - it is seen as a way of teach students to manage alliances with other people, while keeping students on their toes. The students have been made aware that you two are at the school, and you're not to be attacked. But if students mistake you for particularly small first years, you will be seen as easy targets. It's a tradition for older students to hex or sometimes even curse the first years - such behaviour is seen as part of the 'initiation' into Durmstrang."

"I do not recommend that you go anywhere alone in the school. If anything should happen to you, there is little recourse that can be expected. I know that both of you have experience with using magic - in fact, Professor Jandova, who you injured is still recovering. You made quite the mess of him, you should know. But most of the students here are experienced duellers, trained to be quick and ruthless, and those that aren't as strong have learned to band together to create powerful units. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" The mediwizard's expression was grave as he said this. The twins exchanged glances before nodding.

"Good, because I will not be repeating myself," The mediwizard finished curtly. "Now, here's the house-elf with your meals. If you have need of anything, simply call for me."

The mediwizard left the twins alone, and they picked up their plates and began to eat. As a school that catered to pure-blood wizards, the food was of excellent quality, and the twins quickly finished their meal. They noticed that the school wasn't as silent as it had been when they first arrived. In the corridors, they could hear the sounds of footfalls and voices. When it was time for the students to switch between blocks, the volume increased significantly. If they had not heard the mediwizard's warning, the twins would have been curious to see what school life was like. But now, both of them felt only nervousness.

Since Harry wanted to see Bellatrix (and Holly had no wish to be separated from her brother,) the mediwizard called down a student to bring them to the library. The student, a wiry boy with close-cropped blond hair, gave the twins an openly curious look. Like the rest of the students, he was wearing a school uniform, which was elegantly tailored and militaristic in style.

"The library, is it? All right then, come on." He gestured with his head for them to follow. They pulled up alongside him, and as they turned a corner, he spoke.

"So you are the ones that everyone is talking about."

The twins looked at the older boy with perplexed expressions.

"Or I suppose it's more accurate to say that everyone is talking about your mother," the blond boy clarified. "Is it true that she's related to Headmaster Karkaroff? Or is it blackmail? I've also heard that she took him and seven professors down in a duel, but that's just ridiculous. She isn't that powerful, is she? The LeStrange name is well known because of their wealth and connections, but not necessarily for breeding exceptionally powerful witches and wizards. Though there is the odd fact that Professor Jandova hasn't been teaching his classes. And Anders did claim to see Professor Jandova behind the curtain in the infirmary."

"Erm -" Harry looked towards his sister, but she just gave a light shrug. She wasn't interested in discussing Bellatrix.

"I think our mama is powerful," Harry mused. "And she _did_ defeat the headmaster. But she didn't defeat all the other adults - er - p'fessors."

The boy stopped in his tracks and gaped down at them. "Wait. You'd have me believe that the duel actually occurred?"

Harry couldn't understand the boy's surprise. "Yes - there was a duel. But like I said, mama only defeated the Headmaster. I stunned two of the other adults - er p'fessors and Holly defeated one."

The blond boy looked from twin to twin incredulously. "You're being serious."

"Well - yes?"

"Merlin's grotty beard! Tell me what happened!" the boy demanded. "Everyone wants to know! But no one has dared ask your mother. She's beautiful, but very intimidating."

Harry bit down on his lower lip. "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to talk about it."

The boy made a noise of frustration. "Has anyone told you to keep it a secret?"

Harry knit his brow. "Well - no -"

"If you were _supposed_ to keep it a secret, then someone would have made sure to tell you, yes?" The boy spoke this slowly, as if he thought the twins might be too dull-witted to understand. "Which means that if no one said you were supposed to keep quiet, then you can tell me."

Harry still looked uncertain, but Holly was indifferent. With a shrug, she said: "She came here to look for a ritual. Then She fought with the headmaster. Then a bunch of adults came in and tried to attack us. Harry stunned two, but they fought back. I used a spell on one. But by then, She had taken the headmaster's wand, and She told them all to leave. When we woke up, it was in the infirmary."

The older boy blinked, trying to process the very dry and bare-bones telling of the events. "Wait, so the professors _attacked_ you? But you're both so - well - young."

Harry nodded. "They were going to hurt mama. I couldn't let them do that!"

The boy looked at Harry, startled. "_You_ attacked the professors first? How old are you two anyway? Where did you learn all this magic? Before I came to Durmstrang, my parents only taught me theory, and let me try basic spells like _lumos_."

The twins looked at one another, perplexed. "_Lumos_?"

"The wand-lighting charm. Like this -" The boy pulled out his wand. "_Lumos!_" A white ball of light appeared on the end of the boy's wand. "_Nox_." The light vanished, and the boy pocketed his wand.

"Erm - we didn't know the spell was called _lumos_," Harry revealed.

"Are you telling me you know stunning and offencive spells, and you can't even do a simple wand-lighting charm?" The boy's expression was disbelieving.

"We can create light," Holly informed him tartly. "We just didn't know the spell had a name. She just told us to make magic work through will, intuition and emotions alone."

The boy paled. "What?! Do you realize that what you're describing is the basis of Dark Magical theory?"

"We know some theory," Harry admitted. "But we're still learning a lot of things."

The boy shook his head slowly. "How in Merlin's name can you be so unperturbed about this? People can lose their minds to Dark Magic. You _know_ that, don't you?"

The twins shared a look. "Erm - We - don't know," Harry admitted. "We just - try and perform the spells so that they work."

The boy raised his eyebrows before shaking his head again. "Crazy," he muttered. "I always heard that witches and wizards on the Isles were scared of anything related to the Dark Arts, but I suppose you can't believe everything you hear. I guess I better take you two to your mother. Come on."

With that, the wiry blond boy led the twins to the Durmstrang library to find Bellatrix.

-o-

Durmstrang's library was also on the first floor of the castle but unlike the infirmary, it spanned two floors. From the ground floor, the second level was open and visible through the wooden balcony, displaying even rows of wooden bookshelves. The first floor appeared to be divided into two halves, with one side containing bookshelves packed with tomes, reference books and grimoires. The other side contained a series of rectangular desks, several of which were occupied by students.

The twins spotted Bellatrix immediately, sitting at one of the wooden tables with stacks of books around her. She looked nothing like a student - aside from the fact that she wasn't wearing a uniform, there was something about her that seemed so much more intense than the other people around her. She did not even seem to have noticed the twin's entry into the library. After thanking their blond guide, they made their way to Bellatrix's table.

Harry edged up to Bellatrix's side, while Holly stood a bit behind him. Holly was more interested in the library and the curious students, than she was in Bellatrix.

"Mama?" Harry addressed Bellatrix. Internally, he had steeled himself for a distant and half-hearted reaction. After the Gris incident, Bellatrix had changed, and become less affectionate with the twins, and this absence of closeness with his mama had been painful.

Bellatrix turned towards the twins, an expression of surprise on her face. "My babies!"

Harry blinked in surprise, but then smiled broadly, relieved at the familiar endearment, while Holly scowled. If Bellatrix was affectionate again, maybe things could be like they were before.

Bellatrix winced upon seeing the look on Holly's face, but warmed when she saw Harry's open smile. He gave her an affectionate hug, which Bellatrix returned, and he tried not to think too hard about the fact that Holly wasn't even attempting to hug Bellatrix. Perhaps if he left the matter alone, it would sort itself out. Holly couldn't hate Bellatrix forever, could she?

Harry pulled away, but Bellatrix continued to stroke his hair in a motherly gesture. She examined him as if wanting to see for her own eyes that he was healthy. "I'm glad to see that you - the two of you - are awake and well. I've been very, very busy trying to find the information that will allow me to access the Crystal Cave. It's only a matter of time before I find the Dark Lord!" Bellatrix's expression became distant as her eyes shone with fervent determination.

Harry peered over at the books and scrolls on her table. "Is there anything we can help you with, mama?"

Bellatrix blinked as she was abruptly pulled from her pleasant thoughts and returned her attention to the twins. She seemed to brighten at the suggestion, as though eager for support. But while Harry's expression was hopeful, Holly had narrowed her eyes, as though silently threatening Bellatrix.

"I - ah - no, sweet baby," Bellatrix replied haltingly. "You're such a dear Harry. Such a sweet dear. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you and Holly. But I'm - ah - afraid that the information I'm looking for is rather archaic, and you simply wouldn't understand." Bellatrix rested her hands on Harry's shoulders. "You two can take care of yourselves for the next while, can't you? Of course you can. Such clever and intelligent children, you both are, and there's no better place to be than Durmstrang to practice your magic." Bellatrix sighed, her dark eyes looking almost rueful. "You grow up so fast."

"Erm -" Harry looked over at Holly, feeling uncertain. "I think we can take care of ourselves."

"Yes." Holly affirmed, her voice flat. "We can."

"Ah, I suppose you should know that I've taken temporary residence here at Durmstrang since apparating in and out is such an inconvenience," Bellatrix added. "Our room is on the fourth floor. There are name plaques on the doors so with a bit of exploration, you should be able to find it easily enough."

Harry knit his brows. "So - you're sure you don't need us for anything?"

"Oh Harry." Bellatrix gave his shoulders a light squeeze. "What's important is that you and your sister continue to grow strong so you can be worthy of the Dark Lord. Now run along, sweet baby. You have a castle to explore!"

"But - well - the mediwizard said that Durmstrang isn't safe for us," Harry explained, feeling conflicted.

"Isn't safe? After all we've faced together?" Bellatrix laughed. "The two of you are _far_ more capable than that man gives you credit for. _I_ believe in you. I _know_ you can take care of yourselves."

"Oh. Okay." Harry felt Holly tugging at his sleeve, in a silent signal to leave. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course, my babies!" Bellatrix answered brightly.

As the twins wandered away from Bellatrix, Harry's expression was lost. But Holly was scowling angrily.

"How could she be like that?" Holly snarled, when they were far enough so that Bellatrix couldn't hear them. The librarian, a stout-looking woman, frowned at them.

"Be like what?" Harry asked keeping his voice hushed.

"Be all - all - mothering, after all she's done! She's a big fake!"

At this point, the librarian had left her station and was now standing over the twins, her hands on her hips and her expression severe. Holly, who suddenly noticed the other woman quickly changed from angry to guarded.

"I've heard that Igor had allowed a couple of small children into the school but I had trouble believing it until now," the librarian huffed. "Perhaps it is because you are too young and haven't been properly taught, but the library is no place for conversation. You'll have to go elsewhere."

"But -" Harry knit his brows, "- we were told not to wander around. Isn't it dangerous?"

"Dangerous?" The librarian echoed. "Igor specifically told the school body that you two are not to be harmed. Now, you may stay if you plan to read _quietly_. I can point you to some basic level books. But if you continue to blather on, I must insist that you leave."

The twins exchanged glances. "We'll go," Holly stated. The librarian nodded stiffly and returned to her station.

"Where should we go?" Harry asked as they walked towards the library exit.

Holly shook her head. "I don't know. We can use our hunting skills to stay hidden, couldn't we? It's not the same as a forest, but from what we've seen, this school has a lot of shadows where we could hide. We'll look out for each other."

Not having a better idea, Harry agreed. The twins kept to the shadows, keeping their ears alert for any students that might cross their paths.

As they were creeping through one of the corridors, peeking around a corner, Holly murmured: "We should try and find a way out of the castle."

"Why?"

Confirming that they seemed safe, the dashed along the hall to the next corner.

"Isn't that where Hamal and Sheratan are? I want to see them," Holly told him.

Harry brightened. "Yeah - I didn't even think of that."

The twins managed to find their way to the entrance hall, but they were dismayed to see students milling around.

Holly knit her brows. "What should we do?"

"We could try and find another exit," Harry suggested. "Malfoy manor always had multiple doors that took you outside. Or we could try and sneak past them and get to the exit. They're just talking to one another. They might not notice. And if they did, we could run."

"Let's find another exit," Holly decided, not wanting to risk any trouble.

After more wandering, and an extended period of hiding when the bell rang between classes and students flooded the halls, the twins managed to find their way outside. In the distance, they could see forests and mountains. The scenery was unfamiliar, and the twins had to circle the castle's exterior before they saw anything that they recognized.

"I think that pathway will take us to Tysbastval," Holly pointed. Harry nodded. Making sure that no one was in sight, the twins followed the cobblestone path. The cobblestone seemed to have magical properties because it felt smooth and even beneath their feet.

They walked along the path for almost an hour in silence. But something felt wrong. Though the twins knew that they were getting further and further from the castle, they still felt as though they were getting nowhere.

"Shouldn't we see Tysbastval by now?" Holly wondered.

Harry shrugged unhappily. "Mama apparated us in. Who knows how far away it might be?"

Holly pursed her lips. "Let's keep going then."

The twins walked silently for another twenty minutes before Harry spoke. "Are you going to be mad at mama forever?"

Holly gave him an incredulous look. "Why wouldn't I be mad after what she did?"

"Yeah but - it wouldn't have happened if we hadn't met Gris, right?"

"So?" Holly stubbornly retorted. "She still tortured me. And Gris even said she was evil. Her and the Dark Lord."

Harry's expression became even more concerned. "Yeah, but - Gris was just as bad. Besides, what does he know? He's just a big - stone - thing! Are you saying you don't think we should try and find the Dark Lord anymore?"

"Not if the Dark Lord's worse than Her. I bet the first thing he'd do as soon as we found him would be to torture all of us!" Holly declared, her eyes flashing angrily.

"No he wouldn't!" Harry argued. "Mama wouldn't serve someone like that."

"She would!" Holly countered. "Maybe - maybe she really doesn't know good from bad. Maybe -" Holly knit her brows, "- maybe she's wrong about everything. Maybe she's even wrong about muggles!"

"No!" Harry shook his head. He refused to think that Bellatrix might be wrong about something so fundamental. It was too terrible to consider that those tortured and dead muggles might not have deserved their fate. There was no reason to believe someone like Gris, when it was Bellatrix who had been there for them for years of their lives.

"I won't forgive her," Holly asserted. "And -" she bit down on her lower lip. "And I won't serve the Dark Lord either."

Harry's eyes widened. "But it's the Dark Lord! Even Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa support him."

Holly's expression became troubled. "Well - what if they're wrong too?"

"You can't just assume that _everyone_ is wrong."

Holly furrowed her brows, and the twins walked silently as Holly thought. "Our parents!" Holly exclaimed.

"What?" Harry looked at her, mystified by the bizarre outburst.

"Our parents," Holly repeated. "She told us our parents were on the Light side. They even died for it. That means they were against the Dark Lord."

"That only proves mama right," Harry argued. "If they died, they were weak."

"So then, if _mama_" (Holly spat out the word with derision,) "dies, then that makes her weak as well?"

"Mama isn't dead though."

A dark smile crossed Holly's face. "But she could be."

"But she's not," Harry stubbornly maintained.

Holly opened her mouth to reply, but seemed to change her mind and shut it shrugging with false nonchalance. Instead, the twins continued their trek in further silence.

When the sun began to creep closer to the horizon, Harry began to worry. He looked back in the direction of Durmstrang, and a strange feeling of deja vu sent a chill down his spine. He was sure that the castle had been the same size last time he looked. Shouldn't it be out of sight by now?

"Holly? I don't think we're getting anywhere."

Holly looked towards the distance and then towards the castle. "We just have to keep going."

"I think we should turn back. Mama might be wondering where we are."

Holly scowled. "So what? I want to see Hamal and Sheratan. Don't you?"

"Yes - but -" Harry thinned his lips. "Wouldn't it make more sense to just ask mama to apparate us? This is taking forever."

"I don't want her to apparate us," Holly gritted out. "We don't need her. In fact, we can do it ourselves. _Mama _seems to think we're capable. She even said so earlier."

Harry hummed as he considered the idea, but then a look of determination crossed his face. Bellatrix always encouraged them to try new magic, and apparition seemed like it would be no exception. "All right. Let's do it. Let's apparate there."

Holly beamed, and took Harry's hand.

"The spot outside Tysbastval?" Holly asked. Harry nodded.

The pair of them concentrated, thinking of the meadow outside Tysbastval where the hitzetiers often like to graze. Harry felt a rush of elation when he felt the familiar sensation of compression before he was overwhelmed by the discomfort of feeling like he was being squeezed through a small tube. Seconds later, the twins appeared in the meadow, with Tysbastval clearly in sight. Harry grinned, proud of their success. However, Harry was aware of a terrible stinging sensation on the side of his leg, and his grin soon became a grimace. He looked down, uncomprehendingly, unable to see past his robes. But then he heard Holly cry out.

Harry looked over at his sister, who was looking down at her arm with horror. It looked like a huge strip of skin had been ripped off.

"Holly!" he called to her in alarm, but when he tried to take a step forward, pain lanced through his leg, and he lost his balance, falling over on his side. His leg felt as though it had exploded in pain, and for a moment, he saw white.

"Harry!" his sister exclaimed, kneeling in front of him. "What happened? Why am I bleeding? Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know." He reached for his wand, and winced in pain. "Let me heal you first."

He furrowed his brow, pointing his wand at Holly's wound. But while he managed to stop the bleeding, he could not fully heal the injury. Sweat beaded at his brow and he was starting to pant heavily.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I can't seem to heal it completely." He felt his vision momentarily blacking out but shook his head and managed to keep a hold on his consciousness.

"Harry? Harry! What's going on?"

"Get - mama," Harry implored.

"What? Why?" Holly's expression was conflicted, and Harry could see her shaking her head.

"Get - mama," Harry repeated, but this time with a steel edge in his voice. "Get her - now!" Another wave of dizzying blackness overtook him, but this time, Harry couldn't seem to fight it. His last thought before he lost consciousness was how comfortable the grass felt beneath him.

-o-

When Harry next awoke, he was momentarily confused about where he was. But then Holly and Bellatrix appeared at opposite sides of him. Holly's face was a mix of relief and guilt as she called out his name, while Bellatrix smiled warmly.

"You're awake!" Holly said as she took his hand.

"Harry," Bellatrix murmured as she reached out to stroke his hair. Holly gave Bellatrix a dark look but remained silent.

"What happened?" he questioned. He looked around and finally recognized where he was: Durmstrang's infirmary. Harry could see the mediwizard make his way over to his bedside, shaking his head and clucking his tongue.

"You two are more trouble than I ever could have guessed," the dark haired man scolded. "Attempting to apparate? At your age? What's wrong with children these days? Haven't you ever heard about being splinched?"

"You dare to tell my babies what they can and cannot do?" Bellatrix asked the mediwizard menacingly.

The older man narrowed his eyes. "I tell _my patients_ what is in their best interest. And it is in the best interest of seven year olds to refrain from practicing magic on their own. Especially advanced magic which can easily harm witches and wizards much older than themselves."

Bellatrix sneered. "Then it's a good thing you can only make _suggestions, _but it's _me_ that they will listen to in the end."

Uneasy with the rising tension, Harry quickly interrupted. "What does 'splinched' mean?"

Bellatrix and the mediwizard stopped glaring at one another, and both of them looked down at Harry.

"Splinching occurs when a witch or wizard apparates unsuccessfully, leaving either clothes behind if they are fortunate, and body parts behind if they are not," the mediwizard explained. "It is not uncommon when witches and wizards are careless or inexperienced as they are attempting apparition."

"Oh." Harry mulled over the words. "But I'm okay now? And Holly?"

"The mediwizard healed me," Holly chirped, while the mediwizard burst out: "You could have died, you little fool! You might well have bled out if your family had not brought you here in time!"

"Don't you take that tone with him," Bellatrix hissed. "Don't you realize that he is a child of the Noble House of Black?"

But the mediwizard's vehement response caused Harry to pale and he barely heard Bellatrix speak. "I could have died? But it didn't even feel that bad."

The mediwizard gave Harry such a fierce look that he wilted, unable to look the older man in the eye. "Yes. Splinching can be extremely dangerous. I can tell that it's unlikely that I can stop you two from performing magic but I strongly suggest you refrain from apparition, if you know what's good for you."

"Oh. Okay," Harry replied, chastened.

"Fortunately for you, you have been completely healed, so you are free to leave at anytime," the mediwizard added. "I sincerely hope I won't be seeing either of you back here again."

"Erm - me too," Harry piped. The mediwizard gave him a stiff nod before leaving.

Harry looked over at Bellatrix and then his sister. He sat up and then climbed out of the hospital bed, standing by Holly's side. She bit down on her lower lip before hugging him, and murmuring: "I'm so glad you're all right. I'm so sorry about - everything," in his ear.

Once the twins parted, Bellatrix gave the twins an indulgent smile, ignoring Holly's hostility.

"You two are truly remarkable," she told them. "There are some that have lost limbs or worse through splinching. The fact that you both made it mostly whole is to be commended. But since it is better to practice something like apparition with an expert nearby, I feel it's probably better if I apparate you from now on. Why did you want to go to Tysbastval anyway? Have you already eaten all your sweets?"

"Sweets?" Harry repeated. "No. We wanted to see Hamal and Sheratan."

Bellatrix was clearly bemused. "This was all so you could see a pair of goats?" She shook her head. "I'll never understand the way you two think. Ah well. Next time you wish to visit the - mounts -" Bellatrix scrunched her nose, "be sure to come to me first. Mind, I have many, many more books to search through to find the ritual, so you can't just visit Tysbastval whenever you want."

"Erm - all right, mama," Harry answered uncertainly.

Bellatrix smiled again. "Such good babies you are. But it's late now and you'd best be off to bed."

Harry nodded while Holly just remained close to Harry's side, trying to tune out her adopted mother's presence. It had been a long, long day, and Harry was glad that it was finally over.

-o-

The twins spent the next day exploring Durmstrang castle. Their long day of trekking along the cobblestone path (which they learned was magically created to prevent anyone from running away) had drained them, and left them feeling disinclined to venture outside. Both of them were particularly cautious about keeping hidden, and during high-traffic periods, they remained tucked away in quiet alcoves or empty classrooms.

However, in the following days, life at Durmstrang became increasingly difficult. The older blond boy who had led them from the infirmary to the library had shared the twin's story with his friends, and they, in turn had spread the word, until Durmstrang's gossip mill was buzzing with exaggerated tales of the twin's magical prowess. The students knew that they weren't supposed to hurt the twins, and the twins were fairly identifiable because they were not wearing Durmstrang's uniform. But due to the way that Bellatrix had defeated and humiliated Karkaroff in their duel, the headmaster felt little sympathy for the twins. He claimed that he had done all he could by ordering the students to leave the twins alone. If the twins got hurt, it was due to their own carelessness, or so Karkaroff said.

It had started small, with just a tripping jinx. The twins were cautious, but the billowing of their dark robes had caught a student's eyes. As the jinx was fired at Holly, she had failed to see it in time and stumbled forward. Fortunately, Harry was by her side to catch her, and keep her from falling on her face. Perhaps the twins would have attributed it to an accident, except for the fact that they heard the student proclaim: 'Got them!' before laughing and wandering off to join their friends. But as more and more jinxes and hexes came their way (many of which they were able to dodge), the Darkness within Holly had quickly arisen, furious and determined to retaliate in the most brutal of ways. Harry often had to pull her away and use his own abilities to ease the Darkness until it was gone.

It was a few weeks into their stay at Durmstrang, and the twins were climbing down one of Durmstrang's more narrow and less populated set of stairs, hoping to reach one of their hideouts before they were seen by any of the students. Since the students knew which room they were staying in, the journey to and from Bellatrix's chambers was always fraught with danger.

"They should be around here," they heard a female voice say from up ahead. "Keep your eyes sharp - they're good at staying hidden in the darkness."

"Morgaine! I just want to make those little worms scream!" a deeper female voice uttered vehemently. "I can't believe Karkaroff allows them to just run loose around the castle. It's disgusting! Only those who have earned their way in should be allowed to be here."

"I know," a male voice agreed. "It's sickening. Karkaroff should be trying to regain his honour - not letting a bunch of Englishmen run roughshod all over him. He should have thought about how his actions reflect on the rest of us."

"That's why we're doing this," the first female voice affirmed. "We can't let those little brats think that they're welcome here. They need to _know_ that they're not wanted. It's only right for little babies like that to fear us."

Harry and Holly exchanged glances. Being hexed and jinxed were one thing, but these sounded like older students, and they sounded serious.

"Let's turn around and go another way," Harry whispered. Holly nodded in agreement.

Using all of their ability, they moved as silently and quickly as they were able, all too conscious of the sound of footsteps at their heels. But their short stride could not compare to the long stride of the older students. As the twins reached the top of the stairs and dashed along the right hand corridor, they heard the female voice calling out: "Over there! I see them!"

The words caused Harry to feel a sharp jolt of fear, and he and Holly increased their speed. They rounded a corner, all too aware of the angry shouts behind them. To make matters worse, Harry could feel the pain in his scar intensifying as Holly became increasingly furious. If it had been only one or two students, he might have considered turning around and trying to defend himself, but they were faced with a group of students who were determined to hurt them.

They turned another corner, and spotting an open door, Harry grabbed his sister's hand and tugged her inside. He was aware of the way she pulled away - the Darkness was intense and it was obvious that she longed to curse the other students, even if it was reckless and foolish to do so.

In the end, it was easier to just physically hold her, and hope that his own magic would settle the tumultuous fury within her. As Harry held onto his sister, his heart pattered frantically as he listened to the sounds outside the door.

"Which way did they go?" the male voice demanded. "Did you see?"

"We might have a better chance if we split up," the deeper female voice suggested.

"Wait! I heard something that way!" the other female voice called out. "Come on!"

The older students dashed off, and when the twins could no longer hear the group, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The pain in his scar was quickly fading, and as Harry looked at his sister, he saw that she looked more tired than angry.

"That was close," Harry muttered.

"Yeah." Holly frowned. "I hate it here. I hate these people. We weren't the ones who wanted to come here. Why do they want to hurt us?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. They said Durmstrang pride - whatever that means." Harry sighed. "Maybe we should tell mama."

"No," Holly answered sharply. "No. Besides, you tried to tell her before. Remember what she said?"

Harry thought back to the moment. The hexes and jinxes hadn't been that serious yet, and instead of being sympathetic, Bellatrix had just chortled and said: 'Show them who the dangerous ones _really_ are.' She seemed to think that Durmstrang's environment would be a good way for the twins to develop their skills and reflexes. If Harry were to complain to Bellatrix again, perhaps she would think he was weak - perhaps she wouldn't be proud of him for handling it himself.

"You're right," Harry conceded. "We shouldn't tell her. We'll just have to get stronger and figure it out ourselves."

After an indeterminable amount of time, Harry peered into the corridor. It appeared empty.

"Come on," he urged Holly. "Let's get out of here."

She nodded in agreement. They checked every corner, and went down a different flight of stairs. As they walked past the classrooms, they could hear the professors lecturing the students. There were some days when Harry and Holly would listen outside the classrooms, catching interesting snippets of information, but often, the material was too advanced for them to fully understand. Furthermore, they really didn't feel safe standing outside any of the classrooms.

The twins were nearing their hideout, where they could finally relax and enjoy a moment of temporary safety. But as they rushed along the corridor, as silent as ghosts, they heard a female voice call out: "There they are!" Instantly, they tensed up, and rather than giving away their hideout, they simply ran.

Harry looked over his shoulder and recognized the older students that had been chasing them earlier. He aimed his wand and shot off a stunning spell, hitting one of the girls in the group, who crumpled into a limp mass against the wall.

"Annika!" the older boy exclaimed, crouching over her and looking concerned.

"She's just stunned," the other girl observed, a fierce edge to her voice. "Leave her. She'll be all right."

"Those cursed brats!" the boy snarled. "I'm going to make them suffer for this!"

The twins didn't stay to listen but instead, rounded a corner and dashed down a staircase not daring to slow their pace. Harry cast another spell when he saw the older students coming their way, but this time, the students were more prepared and threw up a protective shield.

"We have to find an adult," Holly said, sounding breathless from running. "They won't dare to attack us if there's an adult nearby."

"Mama?" Harry suggested.

Holly furrowed her brow, looking unhappy with the idea but in the end she did not protest. Just then, a beam of blue light came their way and the twins barely managed to dodge. Unfortunately, another nasty hex came soon after, hitting Holly's shoulder and she cried out in pain. A feeling of intense fury came her and she sent off her own powerful spell. Harry flinched from the pain in his scar but he was getting used to the way that his sister's fury caused him pain.

The older students attempted to block Holly's spell but to their dismay, they were unable to and the spell hit the older boy's arm. He screamed out in agony as his skin began to peel. Holly aimed her wand to cast again, but Harry grabbed her arm to yank her away, knowing that the situation would only escalate if they stayed and fought.

However, before the twins could flee the scene, a voice called out: "What's going on here?"

The twins looked towards the voice. It was one of the professors - one that they had seen in Karkaroff's office - but the twins had never personally spoken to the man.

The older students eyes widened when they realized that a teacher was close at hand. The twins felt a sense of relief, knowing that the presence of an adult meant they were safe from further attacks. Harry and Holly looked over at the older students, wondering if they would leave to avoid getting in trouble. But the older students next actions stunned them.

"Professor Vasiliev!" The boy wailed. "The young twins! They have no respect for Durmstrang rules! They attacked us even though everyone knows that we're not supposed to hurt them! They abuse our hospitality!" The boy held up his injured arm to show the professor, though he attempted to keep his face stoic through the pain. After all, showing too much weakness would damage his own reputation.

The professor looked down at the boy's arm and frowned. "Is this true?" he demanded in a gruff voice. With his thick brows and pale and dense facial hair, he looked like a barbarian warrior of old.

"No!" Harry answered, unable to believe the older student's deception, but at the same time, the older girl insisted: "Yes, it's true! They even stunned Annika!"

"They started it!" Harry protested angrily. "They were chasing us!"

"I'll kill them," Holly hissed, still caught up in her dark rage.

"No, Holly!" Harry tightened his grip on his sister's arm, but it was too late - Professor Vasiliev had already heard her words. His eyes narrowed.

"You two! Take yourselves to the infirmary," the professor barked to the older students. They nodded obediently, but gave the twins menacing sneers before they left.

When the older students were gone Professor Vasiliev turned his attention to the twins. "Karkaroff never should have let you stay," he growled. "Come with me!"

"Those students were lying!" Harry told the man, unable to believe that the man would take the older students' claims seriously.

"Quiet!" Professor Vasiliev ordered, sounding angry. "Hasn't anyone taught you unruly little whelps not to talk back to your elders?"

He turned around and began to stomp off, giving the twins a look that silently said: 'Don't make things worse for yourself. Obey me.'

Not wanting to get into more trouble, Harry followed at the man's heels, dragging his sister along. She was slowly coming down from her fury, but she still had a murderous gleam in her eyes. Harry wondered where they were going. Would the professor take them to Bellatrix? Or the headmaster? Harry wasn't sure which would be worse.

But as Professor Vasiliev ascended the main staircase, Harry realized they weren't going to see Bellatrix. They were going in the direction of Karkaroff's office. The twins recognized the familiar dragon's head above the headmaster's office, and as the professor sent it a powerful spell, the wooden doors of the headmaster's office appeared on the wall, and the doors opened.

"Ah, Pyotr!" Igor greeted as he saw the professor. But he frowned when he spotted the twins.

"Igor! You must do something about these two! They are out of control!"

"It wasn't us!" Harry defended, starting to feel frustrated. He didn't want to get in trouble, but he couldn't simply let such injustice come to pass.

"What have they done?" Karkaroff queried, thinning his lips as he contemplated the twins, as if they were nothing more than irritating insects.

"They're causing trouble with the students," Professor Vasiliev told him. "Causing injuries and disrespecting rules."

"We aren't!" Harry countered, giving the professor an indignant glare.

"They were the ones who started chasing us," Holly told them, now that she seemed fully calm. "We didn't do anything to them."

Karkaroff looked from the twins to the professor, and back to the twins before sighing heavily and shaking his head. "Take them to their mother. Let her discipline them." He waved the professor off.

"But Igor!" Professor Vasiliev protested. "How can you just let this kind of behaviour go unpunished?"

Karkaroff did not want to openly admit it in front of his staff, but the last thing he wanted to do was face off with Bellatrix again. His expression of irritation increased. "I don't have time for this nonsense! I am a headmaster! Not a parent. These two are not my responsibility. Now take them to their mother!"

Professor Vasiliev's expression turned mulish and he looked ready to argue. But instead, he just grunted, before turning around and leaving the office. Harry looked between Karkaroff and Professor Vasiliev, but Karkaroff seemed determined to wash his hands of the twins; he was a man who did not like dealing with too many responsibilities. So, the twins followed Professor Vasiliev back down the stairs and towards the library.

They made their way towards the library tables where Bellatrix was busy researching, and when they reached her side, the professor cleared his throat. Bellatrix looked towards them, frowning at the interruption.

"Yes? What is it?" Bellatrix asked the professor, her voice filled with impatience.

"Your progeny are out of control. They have been attacking students in the halls. I suggest you discipline them, Madam," Professor Vasiliev answered stiffly.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "_You_ suggested that _I _discipline my children? Who are you to make such a demand?"

"I am a professor! It is my duty to see that rules are obeyed! Here at Durmstrang, we expect our students to display proper comportment."

"My children have impeccable comportment. If anyone lacks manners, it is _you_ for interrupting me with such trivial nonsense!"

Harry tried to hide his smile, but he couldn't help feeling thrilled that Bellatrix was standing up for them.

"Now is there anything important you have to say or are you just here to waste my time?" Bellatrix asked coldly.

The professor clenched his jaw. He looked like he had a great deal more he wanted to say but through some great effort he managed to restrain himself. "I have nothing more to say to you Madam."

Bellatrix gave him an emotionless smile. "Good. If there is nothing more you want, then please stop wasting my precious time and leave."

A vein in the man's forehead pulsed. "Karkaroff should never have let you stay."

Bellatrix smirked. "Karkaroff is weak. He has no power over me, and he knows it." Bellatrix looked the professor up and down. "Why do you mention it? Are you looking for some kind of challenge? I'm busy but I always welcome the chance for a good duel. There's nothing quite as satisfying as making someone submit to me."

The twins watched the exchange uneasily, wondering if Bellatrix expected them to participate like she had when she dueled Karkaroff. The professor's fingers twitched as if readying himself for a fight. But then the librarian bustled over, looking like a protective mother bear.

"Pyotr!"

Professor Vasiliev froze, looking towards the librarian with an uncertain expression.

"Don't think I don't recognize that body language of yours! Have you forgotten where you are?" The librarian scolded. "To think! Looking to start a fight among all these precious book! For shame!"

"I would do no such thing!" Professor Vasiliev protested.

"Good! I would expect you, of all people to uphold Durmstrang rules."

The twins watched with glee as the professor seemed to wilt under the librarian's temper. It was no less than what he deserved. Eventually the librarian left and Professor Vasiliev was left looking embarrassed and sullen.

"Well?" Bellatrix was smug. "Are you done wasting my time?"

The professor's nostrils flared. "Yes Madam, we're done." He looked down at the twins. "I'll be keeping my eye on you two." And with that, the man stomped off. Harry and Holly shared a look and they grinned at the same time.

Bellatrix shook her head. "The nerve of that man!"

Harry couldn't help his smile as he turned towards Bellatrix.

Bellatrix reached over and patted Harry's cheek. "You two are such dears. That man is a fool for not seeing it. Now, was there anything you wanted from me?"

Harry shook his head. "No, mama."

Bellatrix nodded. "All right. Try and keep out of trouble with the professors."

"It wasn't our fault," Holly muttered.

"I know," Bellatrix answered agreeably. "But nonetheless, it's a good idea to keep your eyes out."

The twins nodded.

"Now run along! I have much to do." And with that, Bellatrix shooed them off. When the twins finally reached their hideout, they managed to avoid both students and teachers.

-o-

The incident with the older students wasn't the only one. In a number of cases, there were injuries on both sides but the twins were getting better and better at evading spells. To the twins, life at Durmstrang felt like being in a warzone. It was often the older students who were the worst. Not only did they have a larger repertoire of spells, but they also had a deeper feeling of pride in being Durmstrang students.

As the weeks crept by, and the twins became more accustomed to being the hunted as opposed to the hunters, the Darkness within Holly became more controlled. She was less afraid and angry when someone tried to hex her, and instead, was more alert and ready. She was better able to remain 'herself.' Neither of the twins could say that they enjoyed the experience of becoming some sort of prized targets to the student body. However, they did not hate it either. Instead, they saw it as their new form of lessons, and lessons were meant to help them, even if they were unpleasant (or sometimes painful.) That had been what Bellatrix had suggested, hadn't it? Either way, the twins had learned to become even faster, and better at hiding since their arrival at Durmstrang and the twin's reputations at Durmstrang improved. But the students were also more determined to hit the little prized targets than ever, if only to be able to bolster their own reputations and claim that they had done so.

Every so often, Bellatrix would take the twins out of the castle to Tysbastval, and they would spend the day relaxing in the village, or spoiling Hamal and Sheratan with attention. It was the only time during this period that they spent at Durmstrang that they could truly relax. The twins had even asked Bellatrix if they could stay in the tent outside of Tysbastval, rather than returning to Durmstrang Institute. But to Harry's disappointment (and Holly's resentment), Bellatrix had insisted that they remain at Durmstrang, where she could 'keep an eye on them.'

Before long, Harry and Holly had developed something of a routine. It was midway through autumn, and the twins were in the castle, hiding up on a wide ledge, and reading a book. They had explored most of Durmstrang, and they had a few 'preferred' hiding places, although the ledge was one of their favourites since they could easily watch the students without being seen. The book they were sharing was one that had been recommended by the librarian. The stern woman may have been obsessive about her duties towards taking care of the books, but she was also incredibly helpful when it came to books themselves. Unlike Bellatrix, she was aware of what material would be the most interesting (and understandable) to them at their age level. The twins were both naturally curious. Neither would have been satisfied if their education only consisted of dodging and firing hexes in the halls of Durmstrang.

Both of them were so engrossed in the book, which was a historical account on the discovery of many magical creatures, that they were startled by an unfamiliar voice calling out: "There you are! I've been looking _everywhere_ for the two of you! Troublesome little pests." (This last bit was spoken quieter, as if the speaker was uttering it under their breath.)

Acting on instincts, both of the twins had pulled out their wands and were now pointing it to the person below. To their surprise, it wasn't a student, but a professor, standing with her arms akimbo. Her face was familiar - the twins recognized her as one of the professors who had been in Karkaroff's office on the day that Bellatrix attacked. She had grey-streaked brown hair tied in a severe bun, close-set grey eyes, and thick-framed tortoise shell glasses. Though the professor had not pulled out her own wand, the twins kept their own aimed at her.

The professor raised her eyebrows, nudging up the glasses on her face. "You realize that unlike the students, I have nothing to gain from attacking you, do you not?"

Harry and Holly remained mistrustful, their faces stubborn.

The professor sighed, muttering something under her breath that sounded like: "- and this is why I don't want children of my own."

"How did you find us?" Harry asked, suspiciously.

The professor's eyes drifted downwards. "Your robes are hanging over the edge of that ledge."

The twins noticed the overhanging fabric, and scowled, pulling it upwards, though the act was now rather pointless.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded.

The professor's eyebrows arched. "And here I was, under the impression that the two of you had been taught proper manners."

The twins shared a look. It was true that they had been taught to speak to adult wizards (specifically pure-blood adult wizards) with respect. Perhaps it was just because they were high up, and the professor was below them, that made them feel as though they were in a position of power, when in truth, they weren't.

The professor's expression became impatient. "Are you coming down or not? I refuse to crane my neck up to you two all day."

Harry and Holly shared another look before sighing and putting away their wands. They climbed down the wall like agile little lemurs, using the stones like footholds. On the ground, they stood before the professor, their expressions uncertain. They felt much smaller and much more vulnerable with the professor looking over them.

"I'm to understand that you are Harry and Holly Black?" the professor queried.

"Yes, Madam," the twins chorused.

"You can call me Professor Sauvasen. Now come with me. I have no desire to have this discussion in the middle of a corridor."

Professor Sauvasen turned and began to walk, but when she looked over her shoulder, the twins had not made a move to follow. Neither of them were sure whether to trust her or not. Professor Sauvasen sighed and the twins thought they saw her roll her eyes. "I'm a teacher. A professional, and an academic. I will not hurt you. If I had meant you harm, I would have just cursed you when both of you were engrossed in whatever you were doing up on that ledge."

The twins were still uneasy, and the professor made an aggravated sort of noise. "Just come with me."

Professor Sauvasen's tone brooked no argument. She was an adult, and an authority figure, and while the twins (or more specifically Holly) were mistrustful of authority figures, they were still young enough to be easily subdued into obeying. They stepped towards her, and with a curt and satisfied nod, the professor continued on her way. She led them through the corridor and down a flight of steps to the second floor. After another two turns, she directed them into a large room dominated by an imposing wooden desk. The twins guessed that it was probably her office.

Transfiguring an extra chair to match the one that was already by the desk, Professor Sauvasen gestured for the twins to sit down. She made her way to her own larger chair, and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Still feeling nervous, the twins peered at the walls rather than looking at the steely grey eyes of the professor. Rather than tapestries, portraits, or works of art, her walls seemed to be dominated with framed sketches of various trees. The sketches looked more like something from a naturalist's notebook than an artist's.

"Mr and Miss Black, do you know why I've asked you here today?" Professor Sauvasen questioned.

The twins gave the professor an odd look. Was she referring to _them_? As for the answer to her question, they shook their heads.

Professor Sauvasen hummed. "What do you know of those wands that you're using?"

The question caused the twin's hands to instinctively move towards their pockets.

"Our mama bought them. In Germany," Harry informed her.

Holly's expression was more troubled when she said: "The shopkeeper didn't want to sell them."

"Oh?" Professor Sauvasen's interest was evident in her expression. "Please explain."

The twins gave her an uncertain look. Professor or not, they still felt uncomfortable telling her anything.

The professor sighed. "Listen. You're not in any sort of trouble, nor do I intend to create trouble for you. I simply wish to know more about the wands you are using. So why did the shopkeeper not want to sell your mother the wands?"

"The shopkeeper said the wands were dangerous. But She made the shopkeeper do it. The wands had burned Her hands," Holly finally told her.

"It did?" Professor Sauvasen looked startled. "By 'Her,' are you referring to Bellatrix LeStrange?"

Holly nodded.

"How do you know it burned her?"

"We saw it," Harry admitted. "When she picked up the wands the first time, there was a hissing sound and we saw smoke coming from her hands. When she gave us the wands, her hands were red and bubbly."

The professor's dark brows knit together. "Curious. Very curious indeed. Not what I expected to hear. And yet, both of you are able to handle your wands without being burned?"

The twins nodded. "But if feels kind of gross." Harry's face scrunched up. "Oily. It feels good too - both good and bad at the same time." Holly nodded in confirmation.

Professor Sauvasen's eyebrows raised in interest, and she leaned forward. "Fascinating. Utterly fascinating. I wonder how the wands ended up in that shopkeeper's hands. And you say the shopkeeper did not want to sell the wands to your mother?"

Holly nodded. "But She tortured the shopkeeper."

"Holly!" Harry hissed. "I don't know if we should be sharing that."

Holly's expression was defiant. "It's true though."

"Do you remember who the shopkeeper was?" the professor asked. "And where she was located? You realize that torturing witches and wizards can be prosecuted as a criminal act in most wizarding communities."

Holly shook her head, looking miserable, while Harry was the one who was now looking mutinous. He had crossed his arms, and his green eyes flashed with obstinacy.

"If you want to know that, ask our mama. What do you want with _us_?" Harry demanded.

Professor Sauvasen looked taken aback by Harry's sudden change of mood. "Ah - actually, as I said, I wished to speak to you about your wands today. Ever since I first saw them, in Karkaroff's office, I had my suspicions."

The twin's expressions became questioning.

"You see, I'm the History professor here at Durmstrang, and one of my specialized fields of study is wandlore," the professor explained, her grey eyes lighting up. "It's a fascinating aspect of our magical development - the geographic location of ancient magical communities has heavily influenced the type of magic that they developed, because of the local tree types in the region. You see this less nowadays, due to trade and importation, but the broad wood types of modern times reflects the broadening of our magical knowledge. Ah - I can explicate on the matter for hours, but I have a feeling that neither of you would understand or fully appreciate the knowledge I'm imparting on you."

The twins could only nod in response to that.

"Most experts in wandlore will enter into the trade of wand-making," Professor Sauvasen continued. "Few, like myself, enter into academia. This means that most wandmakers often know more about the theory and magic involved in wand-making, as opposed to the historical significance. For example, the wands you carry. If they are the wands that I believe they are, then knowledge about them is incredibly obscure. And yet, as far as the history of wandlore goes, your wands are very significant. They may be the only known wands to have manticore hairs for their core, while still being a functional conduit for magic. Others have tried to craft such wands, certainly, but a manticore hair wand is more likely to direct a spell at the caster than at the target. Most regard manticore hair as a useless and dangerous core type. May I see your wands?"

Harry and Holly looked at one another, uncertain of what to do.

"I have no intention of taking your wands from you," the professor attempted to reassure them. "The odds are that touching the wands would cause me grave injury. But if your wands are the wands I believe they are, it would be remarkable to have the chance to even look at them. I had long thought that this pair of brother wands were lost forever. Just set them on my desk, if you'd please."

Hesitantly, the twins took out their wands, and placed them on the professor's desk. True to her word, the professor did not touch the wands, but instead, leaned towards them to examine them more closely. Her grey eyes seemed to scan the wands from their tips to their bases, taking in every detail.

"Yes," the professor said, sounding as though she were speaking more to herself than to the twins, "I believe these are the wands. Blackthorn wood for one, and cedar for the other. Unadorned and unembellished." She reached her hand out, as if helplessly drawn towards the wands, before shaking her head and pulling her hand away with a small frown on her face.

A deep line appeared between the professor's brows as she contemplated the wands. She looked up at the twins. "May I?"

Unsure of what else to do, the twins nodded. Hesitantly, the professor reached out, touching one of the wands with the tip of her fingers. She made a sharp hissing sound and quickly pulled her hand away. With a dark, but curious expression, she examined her fingers. The tips were a vivid red, looking as if the flesh had been partially melted. Pulling out her own wand, she uttered a spell, healing the blistering, damaged skin.

"Interesting," Professor Sauvasen murmured, still looking at her now-healed fingers. "It's one thing to hear about the malignant power of these brother wands, and it's another to experience it for oneself. It's said that Grindlewald himself searched for these very wands, but in the end, the dark rumours surrounding them caused him to change his mind and seek out the Elder wand instead." She lowered her hand and tilted her head as she contemplated the twins. "Do you recall how the shopkeeper stored the wands? Did the shopkeeper touch the wands?"

"Umm, I think the wands were in a box," Harry recalled. "And she didn't touch them at all."

The professor nodded contemplatively. "Can you pick up the wands for me?"

The twins each took their own wands, while the professor watched with interest. "And you say it feels - what was it - oily? No feelings of burning or pain at all?" the professor asked, leaning forward.

"It can hurt if we cast spells," Harry explained.

The professor made a humming noise, her grey eyes bespeaking her fascination.

"What is it? There's something you're not telling us," Harry asserted. "Tell us."

Professor Sauvasen raised her eyebrows. "Astute for one so young. A good trait to have. Yes, I admit I have a lot of interest when it comes to those two wands. It's unknown what the creator called them, but at some point in time, before the wands were lost to obscurity, they were known as the 'Betrayers.' Much of what is said about these wands is hearsay, however, one of the predominant rumours of the wands is that of the backlash effect. Using these wands can hurt the caster while casting spells, as both of you have testified. However, it is also said that the more powerful and Dark the wizard, the less severe will be the backlash effect."

The professor's expression became pensive. "I had thought, judging by your mother's actions, that perhaps your family line has a particular affinity for Dark Magic. Certainly, your mother is a powerful and very Dark witch, so my hypothesis had been that the 'Betrayers' wands had some sort of attraction to your bloodline. But from what you've told me about your mother's physical reaction to the wands, this is unlikely. What of your father? I'm guessing, from your family name, that your father isn't a LeStrange?"

Harry and Holly looked at one another, feeling uncertain. All this talk of their wands was rather overwhelming, and they had never given much thought to the subject of fathers. While it was true that Draco had idolized Lucius Malfoy, the twins never understood the appeal of that cold and distant man. But as they thought back to their past, they remembered the name, 'Potter.'

"Potter?" Harry ventured. "I think our father's name was Potter."

Professor Sauvasen's brow crinkled, and she tapped her cheek with one of her fingers as she mulled over the information. "Potter. Potter. I don't know very much about your British wizarding bloodlines, aside from the more powerful and influential Dark aligned families. Hm. Potter. Frankly, the only Potters I can think of was that famous case of a Potter family being killed by the British Dark Lord, leaving only a pair of twins as survivors -" At this point, Professor Sauvasen trailed off and gave the twin's an odd look. "The story was from years ago - it had been all over the news. It ended the war, in fact. Curious business. You wouldn't be related to _those_ Potters, would you?"

"Erm - maybe?" Harry answered. Bellatrix had never hid the twin's past from them. However, she often minimized the importance of the Light side of the war, and glorified the Dark side. To the twins, being Potters meant almost nothing.

Professor Sauvasen's expression became increasingly perplexed. "Are you quite certain? From what I understand, those Potters have always been Light aligned. And the Potter twins were said to be the last of their line."

Harry shrugged helplessly. Most of these questions were beyond his scope of knowledge.

"There's something curious going on," the professor discerned. "Is there anything more you can tell me of your father's family?"

The twins shook their heads.

"Nothing? No name, no description of his appearance, no memories?"

The twins shook their heads again. Their muggle relatives had never told them where they came from. And while the name Potter was mentioned, no details were ever given. If Bellatrix knew anything, she did not deem it important enough to tell them.

"Very strange," the professor murmured. "Well, it would make more sense to assume that you _aren't_ related to those Potters. Perhaps there is another family of Potters that is Dark aligned. Because, if in fact, you are related to the Potters whose children spelled the end of the British Dark Lord - well -" the professor's brows knit together, "- then it really doesn't add up. There would have to be some external factor involved - some reason that would lead the wands to accept you as masters. Wands like the 'Betrayers' would never accept a Light or even a Grey master, nor a weak one."

Professor Sauvasen sat back in her chair, sighing and shaking her head. "Or perhaps the two of you are just magical anomalies. I suppose it's been known to happen. But I hate to simply just accept that as the answer. Either way, I suggest that the two of you stop using those wands. In fact, at your age, you shouldn't really even be practicing advanced, let alone Dark Magic." She shook her head again. "What was your mother thinking? Does she have no regard for your well being?"

"Mama cares about us," Harry bit out, mulishly.

"No she doesn't," Holly snapped.

Harry opened his mouth to argue his sister's sentiments, but upon seeing the expression on her face, he changed his mind. He wouldn't choose Bellatrix over Holly.

"She's evil. That gargoyle thing said she was evil," Holly continued.

"Then what's the alternative? How is she worse than anyone here who attacks as as soon as they see us?" Harry burst out. "She's our mama! She's all we have! We can't go back to -" Harry cut himself off, suddenly aware that Professor Sauvasen was watching the pair of them with far too much interest.

"We'll talk about this later," he hissed. He turned back to the professor. "Was there anything else you wanted from us, Professor Sauvasen?"

The professor made a humming sound. "No. That's all. But you know, if the two of you are ever in need of help, there are those here that would be willing to come to your aid. Myself included. You're both important pure-blood heirs. There are standards for how children are treated in the wizarding world."

The twins weren't sure of what to say to that. Harry was already too attached to Bellatrix to leave her. As for Holly, she wasn't about to believe the hollow sounding promises of others. Staying by Harry's side was far more important.

-o-

It wasn't until November that Bellatrix finally found the ritual she needed. By then, the area around Durmstrang was covered with a thick layer of glistening snow, and the twins were finally able to appreciate the warm heat that their hitzetiers radiated. Unfortunately, with the colder weather, Bellatrix had been less inclined than ever to take the twins out, so it was a relief when Bellatrix finally announced that the ritual was found and it was time to leave.

There were other reasons to be glad to leave Durmstrang. In the past month, the twins had been hit by spells that were severe enough to warrant short stays in the infirmary. The twins were getting faster, and their skills had increased dramatically, but so too were the skills and determination of Durmstrang's students. They had only needed to go to the infirmary twice, but it was still two times too many. Bellatrix had been sympathetic and affectionate (especially towards Harry,) but she wasn't in any sort of position to protect the twins from the whole student body. On top of that, she had been too focused on her work.

The other reason that the twins wanted to leave was because of how often Professor Sauvasen pestered them for information about their wands. She warned them time and time again about the dangers of the wands, all the while, asking if she could see them. At one point, she had even suggested that the twins leave the wands at Durmstrang, where proper research could be done on them. While the idea was tempting, in the end, the twins refused. If their wands were taken from them, how could they defend themselves?

Harry and Holly had also been unable to come to any sort of agreement about Bellatrix. Holly only saw the worst in her, while Harry tried to see the best. It had reached the point where they had tacitly agreed not to speak of her at all. It was easier that way.

The twins had just entered Durmstrang's library, hoping to find a new book to read when Bellatrix appeared by their side, startling them.

"There you are!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "Do you know how long I've been looking for the two of you? It's time to go."

Harry gave her a questioning look. "Go?"

Bellatrix nodded, her eyes bright with fervent eagerness. "Back to Germany! I found the ritual. I'm one step closer to finding the Dark Lord. Isn't that just wonderful?"

Harry smiled, pleased for Bellatrix, but Holly remained indifferent.

"Now come!" Bellatrix ordered. "The sooner we can find him, the better. He's been waiting for so long! There's no time to waste."

Placing a hand on Harry's upper back, she turned him around, trying to hasten their way out of the library and Durmstrang. Bellatrix didn't touch Holly. Holly would follow her brother wherever he went, so there was no need. Once they had left the school gates and were a sufficient distance from the school, Bellatrix apparated the three of them to Tysbastval.

"Morgaine, it's cold!" Bellatrix hissed. With a wave of her wand, she cast a spell to warm herself as well as the twins. "Elf!" If the house-elf had a name, Bellatrix did not seem to know it. With a loud pop, the house-elf appeared before them, its gaze lowered and subservient.

"Mistress Bellatrix called?" the house-elf queried timidly.

"We're heading back to Germany. You'll follow us with the hitzetiers, understood?"

"Yes, Mistress Bellatrix."

Bellatrix peered over at the twins. "Ready?"

They nodded. Bellatrix opened her arms, and Harry moved close to her side, while Holly once again chose to latch onto her arm. The familiar sickening compression surrounded them and they vanished with a loud crack.

A series of jumps later, and they were back in Germany, but the country appeared completely different. What had been green and lush was now bare and blanketed with a thick layer of snow. Bellatrix had taken them to a fairly forested region, full of dark evergreens and barren shrubs. Briefly, the twins wondered what it would be like to hunt in such a still and frozen environment.

"We should be close," Bellatrix murmured. "If the coordinates given to me by that disgusting beast prove to be accurate."

The house-elf appeared a short moment later, and the twins and Bellatrix mounted the hitzetier, both for the comfort of their warmth, and because they were drained from so many apparition jumps. Harry and Holly sighed into Hamal's heat - it had been a bit suffocating in the summer, even with the cooling blankets, but now, it felt utterly exquisite. They could have easily fallen asleep on Hamal's back.

The twins paid little attention to their surroundings as Bellatrix slowly explored the area, looking for a certain sign that would mark the entrance to the Crystal Cave. They were both tired, and it was easier to let their eyes drift closed, listening to the crunch of the hitzetier's hooves on the ground, or the breeze through the trees. Both of them were close to drifting off when Bellatrix made a triumphant sound.

"Found it, mama?" Harry asked sleepily, trying to sit up a bit straighter, which caused Holly to groan.

"Yes, baby," Bellatrix answered, not even turning to look at the twins because of her excitement. She had dismounted from Sheratan's back, and was circling an upraised mound, looking dramatic in her black robes, which contrasted starkly with the untouched snow. The mound was bare of any trees. It did not look anything like a cave.

"I'll be performing the ritual now. Do not speak to me until I'm done," Bellatrix ordered. "And stay back - I can't afford any interruptions or accidents. Take the other hitzetier with you."

The twins nudged Hamal towards Sheratan, and taking the hitzetier's reins, they led them a short distance away. They were both curious about the ritual and the Crystal Cave. Bellatrix had spoken of it for so long that it was natural for them to have formed an interest. Though both of them were sleepy, they sat up and watched Bellatrix as she used a cutting spell on her palm, causing crimson blood to well up. With a smoothness that suggested that Bellatrix had performed similar rituals numerous times before, she began to draw out a circular symbol on the mound, surrounded by what looked like ancient runes. When she had finished creating the pattern, she stood at the outside border of the circle, and began to murmur a spell. The circle and the runes began to waver and then pulse, becoming brighter one moment and then fading the next. Bellatrix moved from symbol to symbol, chanting, and the pulsing increased its tempo, while the blood changed from red to purplish.

The volume of Bellatrix's chanting increased. She had moved once again to the next symbol, and the blood had transformed from a dark purple to a paler, but no less vibrant shade. Neither of the twins dared to utter a word. They hardly even breathed as they witnessed the ritual with open fascination. What would happen when it was finished? Would a cave spring up from the ground? Would the invisible turn visible? Would they magically be transported to the real entrance?

As for Bellatrix, she looked paler than ever. It was as though it took all her concentration and energy just to stand and and utter the ritualistic words. She was more than two thirds through the circle, and the twins wondered if she would make it. Harry was silently rooting for her, whereas Holly was simply curious, indifferent as to whether Bellatrix succeeded or failed. She was more interested in the Dark Lord than she was in Bellatrix. Would the Dark Lord be just like Bellatrix? Or better? In all likelihood, he would be worse, though it was hard for Holly to imagine how.

Finally, Bellatrix had made her way through the circle and was standing at the last rune. It was once again a vivid red in colour, and it seemed to be vapourizing, creating spiraling and elegant shapes in the air. The sight was rather beautiful. When Bellatrix had spoken the last word, the quality of the air seemed to change, as though they had fallen into a downpour of invisible feathers. It was an odd but pleasing sensation.

At the center of the mound, an opening began to form, looking unnatural due to its perfectly circular shape. It widened with smooth regularity, like the dilation of a pupil, until it was large enough to admit all three of them, walking side-by-side. Bellatrix trembled and wavered, but somehow managed to remain standing by the strength of her will alone.

"Finally," Bellatrix exhaled. Without seeing if the twins were following, Bellatrix began to descend into the circular entrance.

The twins exchanged uncertain looks.

"We should follow her," Harry suggested. Holly pursed her lips, undecided, but in the end she nodded. They dismounted from Hamal's back and in silent agreement, they rushed towards the circular opening, as if it could close on them at any moment. The feelings of adrenaline had given them a false sense of energy, enabling them to ignore their own exhaustion.

As they approached the opening of the circle, they saw that the path downwards was on a level, but moderately steep slope. Down below, they could see the flowing hem of Bellatrix's robes, and further beyond that, an unearthly glow of purplish white light. They stepped down the slope, keeping a quick pace until they were right behind Bellatrix, who had not even turned to look at them. Instead, Bellatrix's eyes were fixed forward, as though she could not bear to look away due to her anticipation of what she might see. The trod downwards for about fifty meters when the circular opening suddenly widened into an immense cavern with the most spectacular and enormous crystals that the twins had ever seen. The crystals were not long, like spears of quartz, but rather, cube shaped, and they had a silvery purple sheen. Not only that but the crystals seemed to emanate with their own glowing light. It was as if they had walked into an entirely different world.

The twin's mouths had fallen agape, and their heads were tilted upwards as they took the sight in with an overwhelming feeling of awe Some of the cubic crystals were larger than the length of their legs. In fact, some of the more distant crystals might even be taller than themselves. It was amazing. But while Bellatrix found the sight to be beautiful, she was more concerned about what the crystals could _do_. After all, these enormous crystals could amplify communicative magic by more than a hundredfold, and she was counting on them to enable her to finally reach out to her beloved Dark Lord.

That alone seemed to revitalize Bellatrix. Though the entrance ritual had drained her, both magically and physically (not to mention the apparition jumps earlier in the day), Bellatrix could not bring herself to wait. Her intense yearning overrode her good sense. All that mattered was being able to find the Dark Lord, and to prove that of all his followers, she was the most loyal, most determined, most capable and most powerful.

For those who were Light or Grey aligned, communication was usually limited to owls, or the use of the _Patronus_ charm. However, witches and wizards who were Dark had other means of communication. Many of these methods were not commonly used. Like so many other Dark spells, they required some form of sacrifice, most often than not in the form of blood. And like many other magics, their effects were limited. Bellatrix had made use of this particular spell before, when she had first escaped Azkaban, but the spell had either been too weak, or the Dark Lord too distant, and Bellatrix had been unable to reach him.

Bellatrix and the twins ventured further into the Crystal Cave, weaving around the cubic crystals. Bellatrix's goal was to find the largest crystal, since it would be the most powerful. As they walked forward, their footsteps seemed to make strange echoes all around them. Aside from that, it was deathly silent. The twins let their fingers trace the sides of the crystals, and to their surprise, the crystals were warm. The texture wasn't as smooth as they expected, but instead, they could feel small ridges on the flat surfaces. Furthermore, the crystals almost seemed to tug at their own magic, as if beckoning to them.

Finally, Bellatrix spotted the crystal that she wanted. It was half in the ground and half protruding from the wall, and remarkably, it was taller than Bellatrix herself. Like the other crystals, it glowed a silvery purple. Bellatrix had her wand out, and with a slicing motion, her palm was open and bleeding once more. Harry gasped in dismay. Bellatrix already looked terrible, and he didn't see how she could endure more blood loss.

He dashed up to her side, helping her to support her weight, most of which was propped against the immense crystal, which was now smeared with her blood, and glowing more brightly than before. Holly, who had no desire to be left behind, joined him at his side, and gave Bellatrix a resentful glance. She didn't think Bellatrix deserved any of Harry's kindness, and hated the way that Bellatrix claimed any of Harry's affection. But as long as she knew that Harry cared more about her than he cared about Bellatrix, she was willing to tolerate it. Bellatrix hardly seemed aware of the twins, and instead, she made an intricate pattern with her wand to nonverbally cast the communication spell.

Bellatrix was far more magically drained than she had anticipated. If she had been alone, she likely would have collapsed and fallen unconscious. But thanks to the blood adoption ritual, and the fact that she was accustomed to siphoning the twin's magic during apparition jumps, she had a means of pushing herself beyond her limits and casting the spell. Bellatrix couldn't bear to wait. She hardly cared that she was harming herself, and pushing the twins too far. Obsessive love for the Dark Lord drove her forwards, and blood loss only worsened her judgement. The odd magical atmosphere of the crystals made the twins more aware than ever of their magic being pulled out of them. It was as if someone had stuck a straw under their skin, and was suctioning their magic out.

The blood smeared crystal that Bellatrix was leaning against became brighter and hotter, absorbing the magic and amplifying it. The twins could hear Bellatrix muttering: "The Dark Lord. Let me communicate with my Master, Lord Voldemort. Where are you My Lord?" repeatedly, and almost incoherently. She had collapsed down onto her knees, but kept most of her body pressed against the crystal. Harry and Holly could feel a strange sensation in their minds, as if some invisible hook were linking their thoughts with an unknown factor. On top of that, there was an intense jolt of pain through Harry's scar.

Harry started, as he heard Bellatrix suddenly cry out: "My Lord! I have been searching for so long! I am ever your humble and loyal servant!"

But it was hard to focus on what Bellatrix was saying because Harry was suddenly aware that that strange thread in his mind was sending him a message. It had an odd, echoing quality, as if it were bouncing around in his brain.

_You_..._you...you_...

Harry flinched, both because of the voice and because of the pain in his head. He thought: '_What?_' not in answer to the word in his head, but as if to say: 'what's happening?'

_You're the ones I've been watching...watching… I've finally found you...you...you..._

Harry frowned. He could hear Bellatrix saying: "Where are you, My Lord? Tell me how I can find you?" But he was more concerned about the strange voice in his head.

'_Have we met?' _Harry wondered. '_You seem - familiar?_' It was as though some distant memory were tugging at his mind, or perhaps some half-forgotten dream.

_Yes…yes...yes... I've been watching you...you… and your sister...sister...sister…_

Harry's eyes widened, and he wondered if it was possible that he was hearing the voice of the Dark Lord.

He heard the voice say: _And you are...are… _ but then there was there was a strange sensation in his head, as if the hook in his mind, was leaping from place to place. He could catch strange flashes of his own memories, starting from the most recent and moving backwards: his time at Durmstrang evading hexes, meeting Gris Malmangeur, the boar attack, the muggles that Bellatrix tortured and killed, his time at Malfoy manor, the horrible time he had spent with the muggles. And then, after that, an even more distant memory: the sound of a woman's scream, a green flash of light that seemed to split in two - Harry couldn't make sense of it. He recognized that particular shade of green, of course. It was _Avada Kedavra_ green, the colour of the killing curse. The memory was so distant it was almost more like watching a show than it was like experiencing it for himself. But despite that, the experience was distressing.

_Harry and Holly Potter_..._Potter… How did you survive?...survive?...You should have died...died...died…_

Harry frowned. Why did it seem like he kept hearing the Potter name so much lately. Was it really that significant? He felt far more like a Black than he did a Potter. As for surviving - well, his life had been fraught with so much danger lately that he too was surprised to have survived. It didn't occur to Harry that the Dark Lord was referencing the twin's near death experience as toddlers.

He looked over at Holly. She was holding her hands to the sides of her head, and he heard her snarl: "Get out of my head! Get out!"

"Holly?" Harry touched her arm in concern, but she didn't seem to notice.

'What are you doing to my sister?' Harry thought angrily. 'Stop it!' He emitted a push of magic and felt a distant sort of snap, like something had happened to his sister.

She still has one of her hands on her head and she was wincing.

_What have you done… done…. done..._

"I've got a headache," Holly moaned. "I'm so - tired -" She leaned her side against the crystal, but as if standing was too much effort, she slid down so that she was sitting. "I just want - to sleep." Her eyelids fluttered closed and she sighed.

_How _dare _she...she… ignore me...me...me…_

'Leave Holly _alone_,' Harry thought, protective of his sister's wellbeing. He knew that if indeed he was mentally linked to and communicating with the Dark Lord, he shouldn't use such a tone of voice. But while Harry might be willing to let Bellatrix's behaviour pass (because he loved her), he wouldn't allow anyone else to trod all over Holly.

"Holly, are you all right?" He leaned down towards his sister. Next to him, he could hear Bellatrix having what sounded like a one-sided conversation, saying things like: "Yes, My Lord. Of course, My Lord. A forest, My Lord?"

"I'm tired," Holly slurred, half-heartedly waving Harry off. "Just let me sleep."

Harry furrowed his brows. "Okay then." He returned his attention to the voice in his head, noting that the pain in his scar has intensified. But because he was so accustomed to the sensation at this point, it did not bother him as much as it might have.

_Such impudence will not be tolerated...tolerated… How dare you defy me...me...me…_

'I'm not trying to defy anyone,' Harry countered. 'Who are you? Are you really the Dark Lord?'

_Did you not realize, you little fool… fool… fool…_

'I'm not a fool,' Harry thought irritably. Bellatrix might have spoken of the Dark Lord with reverence and awe but it was hard to fear an echoing voice in his head.

Suddenly, the pain in Harry's scar amplified significantly and he cringed.

_You don't fear me… me…? You're a greater fool than I thought… thought… or do you rank your ability so highly… highly…. I have seen what you and your sister are capable of and you are indeed unusual… unusual...unusual…_

Harry knit his brows. 'I know that you are powerful. Mama has always said so.'

_Of course I am… I am…. _the voice sounded very arrogant. _I have even attained immortality…. immortality… How many other wizards can make such a claim… claim… claim…._

Harry had never given the idea of immortality much thought before. It seemed distantly interesting, but ultimately, he cared more about his family, than some distant idea like living forever.

_Family…. family…. How pitiful… _

'It's not pitiful!' Harry thought. 'There's nothing as important as family. They make me stronger and I would do anything for them.'

_Anything… anything…. anything ….?_

Harry tilted his head as he considered the question. But he realized it was true and a look of determination crossed his face. 'Yes. Anything. I'd do anything to keep my family safe and I want us all to be whole again. I won't let _anything _stand in my way.'

Harry heard Bellatrix saying: "Yes, I'll seek out the ritual, My Lord."

_You have strong will and determination…. nation…. Perhaps you are not as weak as I thought… thought… Join me and you shall have all that you desire… desire… desire…_

Harry furrowed his brows. 'How can you give me what I want?'

A feeling of amusement that wasn't his own entered Harry's mind. It was one thing to know his sister's emotions but this felt foreign and bizarre.

_When you have much power as I do, you quickly realize that there is nearly no limit to what can be done… done… And Bellatrix is one of my most loyal … loyal… She would do anything I commanded of her… her… her…_

Harry considered the Dark Lord's words. 'But you couldn't make Holly forgive mama.'

The foreign feeling of amusement quickly transformed into anger and Harry winced at the sharp pain in his scar. But then the anger seemed to cut itself off, as quickly as blowing out the flame on a candle.

_Can you not control your own sister… sister… sister…?_

_'_I don't want to control her -" Harry thought.

_Influence then… then…?_

Harry considered the idea.

_Surely, you can make her see the your way is best… best… best…._

Harry contemplated the idea. Could he really influence Holly? He was so used to the two of them being of one mind, that the notion was foreign to him. And yet, he could see nothing wrong with the idea. After all, he influenced Bellatrix sometimes, and he loved her, so influence itself wasn't bad. Influence could mean that he could get what he wanted. A look of resolve crossed Harry's face. 'You're right. If we were a family again, things would be good and everyone would be happy.'

_Clever of you to understand so quickly… quickly…_

Harry's lips turned upwards and he felt a rush of pride. The Dark Lord seemed like someone who was highly intelligent, and Harry had a better understanding of why Bellatrix thought so highly of the man.

That foreign feeling of amusement entered Harry's mind again.

'So if I join you, you can help to make my family whole again?'

Harry could hear Bellatrix saying: "They're yours to use as you please, My Lord" but it was hard to pay attention to her when he has the voice of the Dark Lord echoing about in his head.

_Yes...yes…. I have the power to give you what you desire...sire… You will bring your sister to my side...side… Your power will be added to mine….mine…. And that fool Dumbledore will never be able to stop me...me… The world will be shaped as I will it….will it….._

"Yes, My Lord, I will find the ritual to restore you to your body," Bellatrix stated. "I am ever your loyal servant. I will not fail you."

Harry considered for a moment. But he knew that as long as he had his family, that was all he really wanted. 'All right. I'll join you. And I will try and convince Holly to do the same.'

_Good...good...good… You two are mine...mine...mine…_

Though the words were oddly possessive, Harry didn't question them.

"I will come to you as soon as I have found the ritual!" Bellatrix exclaimed, and with those words, the silvery purple crystal suddenly dimmed, and Bellatrix moaned before collapsing on her knees, and then falling over, unconscious. The thread in Harry's mind seemed to suddenly snap, and he was aware of his own overwhelming exhaustion.

But his concern for Bellatrix was great enough that he checked first to see if she was all right. Once he determined that she had simply fallen asleep, he shifted her limbs into a more comfortable position. He then laid down on the ground next to Holly who was already sleeping. The floor was hard and uneven, and the cave was unnervingly bright. But Harry's exhaustion was great enough that he soon fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

-o-

When the twins awoke, every muscle in their bodies ached. They were surprised that they had even been able to sleep, and they had a feeling they'd both be bruised. As it was, both of them were hobbling like old men as they tried to loosen up their muscles. But what was just as strange was the fact that Bellatrix was still asleep.

"Should we wake her?" Harry wondered, as he edged closer to Bellatrix.

Holly grabbed the sleeve of his robe to hold him back and shook her head. "No. She'll - probably wake up later. Let's go check on Hamal and Sheratan."

Brightening up as he recalled the hitzetiers, Harry followed Holly and they made their way out of the still-open mouth of the cave. The temperature between the warm cave and the small clearing was a shock. The cold seemed to cut through their robes - especially since the warming charm that Bellatrix had cast had long-ago worn off. They whistled for the hitzetiers and the mounts ambled towards them from within the thicket. Gratefully, they leaned into the emanating heat of the hitzetiers, sighing with bliss.

Since it was near winter, there was nothing they could offer to Hamal or Sheratan as a treat, but the hitzetiers seem to appreciate being scratched between their bronze horns, making endearing grunting noises of pleasure. Harry glanced at his sister, whose expression was distant as she leaned towards Sheratan's heat.

"Why wouldn't you talk to the Dark Lord?" He asked her.

She glared at him. "I _told_ you. I won't serve him."

"You should have at least _spoken _to him."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because. He's smart. He _understands_ things. He can help us."

"How?"

"He can make things better," Harry explained. "He knows what you want and he'll help you to get it."

Holly's expression turned dark, and Harry felt a twinge of pain in his scar.

"So, he can get rid of _mama?" _Holly asked, lacing the word 'mama' with contempt.

Harry frowned. "No."

"Then I won't follow the Dark Lord."

"You're not being fair."

Holly's expression became disbelieving. "You think I'm unfair?"

Harry nodded. "I consider your feelings. But do you consider mine?"

Holly looked uncertain. "I think of your feelings. But -" she bit down on her lower lip, looking troubled. "- I can't forgive mama for what she did."

Harry huffed with frustration. "It was that gargoyle thing that wanted the torture! Not mama!"

"But she's still the one who tortured me."

"I don't like this situation," Harry said unhappily.

"I don't either."

Before Harry could say anything more, the twins heard a shuffling noise from the cave's opening, and as they looked over to the circular entrance, Bellatrix's dark form emerged. Her skin was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but as for her eyes themselves, they were bright, as if lit with an inner fire.

"My babies!" she exclaimed brightly as she emerged from the cave. As soon as she set foot on the snow-covered ground, the entrance closed behind her, leaving only the snow covered mound. If Harry hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he never would have guessed that it was an opening to a cave.

"This is so wonderful!," Bellatrix continued, her expression becoming distant. "So truly wonderful! To have spoken to the Dark Lord, to have heard _his_ voice in my mind. Such a gift! I knew all along that it was only a matter of time before I would find him. I was _sure_ of it. And I was right! My beloved Master -" Bellatrix sighed girlishly. "He has told me the general area where he is located. I would go to him right away but -" Bellatrix's fervor seemed to dim slightly, "- he has told me that I need to seek out a ritual first, to restore his body."

Harry gave her a questioning look.

"This means we'll be returning to England," Bellatrix continued. "I need to research this matter immediately."

"England?" Harry queried, almost breathlessly. "We'll see Draco again?" Even Holly looked interested.

"What does Draco matter?" Bellatrix scoffed. "What's really important here is restoring the Dark Lord as quickly as possible." Her expression lit up once again. "Just wait until old Lucy-boy hears of this!" She cackled gleefully. "I was right all along! He's going to regret all his years of inaction. But he'll have to help me now."

"When are we going back?" Harry asked. "Now?" Though both of the twins were excited about the prospect of finally returning to Malfoy manor, Bellatrix looked like she was in no state for travel. She had exerted herself far too much lately, and probably could have benefited from a week of bedrest. But Bellatrix, who felt like she was so close to finding the Dark Lord, found it easy to disregard her own comfort.

"There's no time to waste," Bellatrix said eagerly. "We'll leave now."

Harry leaned closer to Hamal. "And we're taking Hamal and Sheratan, right?"

Bellatrix started, staring at the hitzetiers as if she had forgotten their existence. "Fine, fine. Have the house-elf bring them. Now come!"

-o-

Draco was sitting at his desk, daydreaming about performing death-defying feats on his broom while his tutor, who sat next to him, lectured to him about magical history. Draco's tutor was considered one of the best - after all, the Malfoys would only ever considering the most educated and qualified of teachers for their only son - but that didn't make the man particularly interesting to a seven year old boy. There were numerous things Draco would rather do (like play or steal treats from the kitchen), but one thing he knew not to do was to disobey his father, and his father had commanded Draco to do well in his studies. Draco was certainly determined to please his father, but he couldn't help it if his mind drifted off while his tutor explained so-and-so's extensive bloodline, and so-and-so's marriage, and so-and-so's numerous accomplishments. It was just so _dry_.

Draco's desk was by a window that overlooked the manor's extensive rear gardens. He could see his father's albino peacocks, and further beyond the greenery were acres and acres of woodland. A small smile crossed his lips as he thought about terrorizing those peacocks on his broom (which he would never do in real life, since his father would _kill_ him - though he would take the chance if he thought he could get away with it.) His thoughts were interrupted by the tutor clearing his throat.

"Have you been listening, Mr Malfoy?" the tutor demanded. "Can you tell me what year the Rosiers and the Malfoys first merged their families?"

Draco frowned, not liking the tutor's tone of voice. He was old enough to have observed how his father and mother treated those that they considered 'below' them, and to try and replicate their behaviour. Didn't the tutor know his place? Didn't he realize he was making his livelihood thanks to the Malfoy fortune?

Draco scowled at the older man. "Isn't it your job to tell me?"

The tutor knit his brows, not liking Draco's attitude, but knowing better than to argue. He looked as if he were about to sigh, but the man somehow managed to maintain his professional demeanour and continued to lecture Draco, stressing the importance of understanding bloodlines. Draco found himself wishing for a distraction. If only something exciting would happen so he wouldn't have to endure such boredom.

Draco's mind drifted off again, but this time, to his friends, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. The other two boys were from pure-blood families like himself (his parents considered lineage an important requirement in Draco's companions.) They were both large and physically imposing boys, even at their young age, but it was Draco who was the leader among his friends. That was as it should be - the Malfoy family was much older, richer and more important after all.

Draco found that he rather liked being able to command his friends. They went along with what he wanted to do, and if they suggested something else, he could always shoot down their ideas if he didn't like them. Of course, most of Vincent and Gregory's suggestions were food related. But as long as the other two boys were well-fed, they were usually content to let Draco lead them in whatever idea happened to cross his mind. Admittedly, it got boring sometimes. Draco was always the one with all the ideas and plans, and neither Vincent nor Gregory did much to enhance the experience. Sometimes, Draco felt like they were like his magical toys, but slightly more independent and unreliable.

There were moments when he found himself feeling like there ought to be something _more_. It was as though he were trying to catch the very edge of a fading dream, where things just felt like they ought to be better somehow; it was a small pebble of dissatisfaction that poked at his consciousness, making him vaguely uncomfortable. He wanted friendships where he felt a greater sense of connection. He wanted friends that felt like equals, whereby together, they'd have so much more fun than he could have on his own. But then he'd think of his family's values and beliefs: was there really anyone out there who was near to his age that could compare to a Malfoy?

After what felt like an indeterminable amount of time, his lessons were finally over. Draco went from listless to suddenly energetic, and would have leapt from his seat, except that such behaviour would have been considered uncouth. Nonetheless, his grey eyes were bright, and a small smile pulled at the edges of his lips. He hurried out of his room, and down the stairs, eager to fly on his training broom, which was a larger and faster model than the one he owned the previous year. It was a clear, but slightly nippy day. Still, since it wasn't windy, it was perfect late autumn weather for flying. Neither Vincent nor Gregory would be visiting today - they usually only visited twice a week, when their mothers came by to have tea with his own mother. It was always a rather structured affair.

As soon as Draco was on the ground floor, he faltered. He was eager to be outside and on his broom, but today, something felt different. He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out what it was. The hall seemed slightly noisier than usual, the sound magnified by the sheer amount of marble that amplified the acoustics of the room. He looked over at the portraits of his ancestors and noticed that they seemed to be murmuring excitedly. Portraits weren't the ideal source of conversation for a young boy, however. The Malfoy portraits could be especially unpleasant, and he had no desire to be lectured by some long-dead relation about how things were better 'back in the day.' Draco decided to look for his mother instead.

Searching the orangery and then the various drawing rooms, Draco was puzzled to discover that his mother was nowhere in sight. Where could she be? If it were the spring or summer, he might search the grounds for her, expecting to find her in one of the gardens, but he could see no reason why his mother would go outside in the late fall. But after investigating all of his mother's usual haunts and finding no clue, he grew frustrated and called for a house-elf.

"Wiffim!"

With a loud pop, the house-elf appeared in front of him, his eyes wide and expression conveying his readiness to please.

"What can Wiffim do for Master Draco?" the house-elf inquired with a mix of deference and eagerness.

"Where is my mother?" Draco demanded.

"Mistress Narcissa? Mistress Narcissa is with Master Lucius and Mistress Bellatrix in the stables," the house-elf informed him.

"The stables?" Draco was perplexed. "We haven't kept anything in the stables since Grandfather Abraxas was still alive. What could they be doing in the stables?" Draco frowned. "Wait, did you say - Aunt Bella is back?"

The house-elf nodded enthusiastically. "Mistress Bellatrix has returned with Masters Harry and Holly."

Draco was taken aback. To think, Aunt Bella was back - his memories of her were a bit hazy, but what he could recall left a knot of anxiety in his gut. She always had a way of making him feel small, and even the knowledge that he was the Malfoy heir did nothing to assuage him. And Harry and Holly? He knew that those were the names of the Twins-Who-Lived. Were they related to the Potters?

"Harry and Holly? Tell me more!" Draco knew he shouldn't keep asking his house-elf so many questions. House-elf were for performing work and chores, not conversation. But on the other hand, house-elves knew so much.

"Masters Harry and Holly Black are the children of Mistress Bellatrix."

Draco's blond brows knitted together. Aunt Bella had children? And she named her children after the Twins-Who-Lived? Or was there something else going on? Why had he never heard of these cousins before?

"Dismissed, Wiffim."

The house-elf nodded and disappeared. With a sense of purpose and burning curiosity, Draco took one of the side doors that led out to the grounds, ignoring the chill in the air. He wanted to know what was going on, but he was uneasy as well. For some reason, Aunt Bella made him feel unsafe, which, for Draco, was an unusual feeling. It was illogical to think that his own aunt would want to hurt him. And he didn't dare express his feelings to his parents either - after all, he wanted to prove how grown-up he was. Nonetheless, his steps became halting as he neared the stables. He could hear the voices of his parents speaking to his aunt, though he couldn't see them since they were inside the stables while he remained outside the doors.

"Are you quite certain, Bella?" His mother asked, sounding strangely urgent.

"Of course I am, Cissy," Aunt Bella snapped. "I spoke to him myself. And he not only told me where he was, but what was required to bring him back."

"Well, if you're sure, then naturally we'll use all our resources to aid his cause," his father's voice intoned.

"Of course you will, Lucius," his aunt gloated, her voice like a purr. "How nice to hear you finally changing your tone."

"I was loyal to the Dark Lord all along," his father answered stiffly. "I have always supported him."

"I'm glad of it. I'd hate to think of what would happen to my own dear brother-in-law if you weren't," his aunt drawled.

"But these creatures -" Draco could hear disdain in his father's voice, "- they'll have to remain stabled. I won't have them destroying the grounds and upsetting the peacocks."

Creatures? Draco's curiosity increased. If the 'creatures' had to stay in the stables, then his father likely wasn't referring to Aunt Bella's children. Draco wondered what the children were like. If they were anything like Aunt Bella they were probably awful. He would have to show them their place - though wouldn't his cousins be the same rank as him? The idea made Draco feel vaguely worried.

Wanting to know more about the so-called 'creatures,' Draco peeked through the stable doors. The angle was poor and he couldn't see anything. With an irritated huff, he ventured forward. Draco's explorations were interrupted by a young boyish voice.

"Draco?"

Draco flinched, looking in the direction of the voice. He spotted a boy and a girl, both with onyx black hair and eyes that gleamed like emeralds. But whoever they were (probably Aunt Bella's children,) he didn't have time to think about it because now his parents as well as Aunt Bella's eyes were on him.

"Draco," his father addressed, while his mother gave him a look of mild concern.

"Why, if it isn't the widdle dragon," his aunt cooed in such a way that he felt like he was five years old. "You've grown! You always were such a small thing."

Draco frowned, and flicked his glance over at Aunt Bella's children. They were the same size as him, so he didn't know why she'd comment on his size, but he couldn't help feeling resentful all the same.

"Draco." His mother's voice called his attention, and when he looked over at her, her expression was expectant. "Manners?"

Draco could barely hold off his scowl. Why did he have to be polite to Aunt Bella, when she treated him like a baby? It wasn't fair! He turned over to his aunt, who had a decidedly smug gleam in her eyes. "Hello, Aunt Bella. Are you well?" he bit out.

"Quite well, little dragon. I was just telling your _father_ about how I have found the Dark Lord. An accomplishment that he failed to even attempt. Luckily for him, he has me, don't you Lucius?" Aunt Bella boasted, grinning up at his father.

Draco's father tightened his jaw, and Draco could spot a vein popping out in his forehead. "Indeed," his father answered coolly. Draco felt marginally better, seeing that his father was just as unhappy with Aunt Bella as he was. At least he wasn't the only one who disliked Aunt Bella.

"Well, you _are_ family," Aunt Bella remarked. "The rewards that the Dark Lord will give us when he returns will be great. Though for me, it's enough to simply serve him and his great cause." Aunt Bella's dark eyes glowed with zeal. "We shouldn't waste the day prattling on in the stables however. We must search through your texts immediately. Soon, He will be back with us. I've been waiting for so long!"

"Bella," his mother cut in. "What of the twins? Will they be staying in your chambers again?"

Everyone looked towards the two dark-haired children, and as Draco examined their features, he could see that they were indeed twins. How bizarre that his Aunt actually named them the same names as the Twins-Who-Lived. Why hadn't she named them after constellations, like so many other Blacks? The boy, Harry, was gazing towards Aunt Bella, his expression uncertain yet hopeful, but the girl, Holly, was shaking her head, and looking almost upset.

Draco's mother, who was quick to pick up on such cues commented: "Ah, I suppose they're older now so they'll want rooms of their own. It's only natural."

"Yes, yes, Cissy. These are mere details." Aunt Bella was already stepping past Draco and out of the stables, followed closely by his father. His mother gestured for the twins to go ahead, and she and Draco were at the rear of the group heading back to the manor.

"Mother," Draco whispered, his grey eyes demanding. His mother peered towards the group in front of them, before slowing her steps and looking down at him.

"I realize this is a surprise, Dragon. We weren't expecting your Aunt Bella to be back today," she informed him, her voice sympathetic. "She never sent any word nor did she mentioned it in her letters. Of course, Bella has always been rather impulsive -"

"I didn't know she had children."

His mother blinked and an odd expression that he couldn't define crossed her face. "Ah - yes. Well. She does. Twins - ah - named Harry and Holly. They're the same age as you."

Draco was even more surprised. "They are? Why haven't I seen them before? Aunt Bella used to live here, but I don't remember her having children."

"They were living - elsewhere," his mother answered rather cagily.

"And they're going to be staying here?" Draco wondered.

His mother nodded. "Yes, of course. They are Bella's children. Where else would they stay?"

Draco pouted. "I won't share my things."

A small laugh escaped his mother's lips, and the corners of her pale eyes crinkled slightly. "Don't worry, Dragon, you won't be expected to share your things. I'm sure they have their own belongings."

They walked a few paces in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Mother," Draco ventured uncertainly. "Are the twins like Aunt Bella?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean -" Draco pursed his lips as he tried to find the right words, "- do they act like Aunt Bella?"

His mother hummed. "I'm sure they're their own people, with their own personalities. I've yet to meet anyone that's quite like Bella." There was fondness in her voice as she spoke of her sister. "I'm sure the twins are perfectly nice children. You'll have someone to play with when Vincent and Gregory aren't here."

Draco frowned. "What if I don't like them?"

"Then at least try and be civil."

They were soon at the manor and entered the building through a set of French doors, behind the rest of the group. The doors led into one of the many drawing rooms - though this one was particularly light and airy, the pale blue walls and furnishings decorated in rococo style. The twins were near the door leading to the corridor, trailing behind Aunt Bella, but to Draco's surprise, his mother called out to them.

"Harry, Holly."

The twins stopped in their steps and turned around, wearing matching looks of inquiry. With their dark colouring and black robes, they looked striking against the backdrop of the blue and gold gilded room.

"Yes, Aunt Narcissa?" Holly asked. Harry was looking over at his shoulder, his expression troubled when he saw that his mother wasn't waiting for him.

"I'm sure Bella wants to be able to focus on her research, so why don't we show you to your new rooms?" his mother suggested.

Holly's expression was surprised, while Harry looked conflicted. Both of them looked at Draco with curious glances that turned into shy smiles. Taken aback, Draco only stood awkwardly, not even thinking to smile in return, and the twin's smiles quickly faded into uncertainty.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Holly answered politely.

Draco looked up at his mother, silently giving her a look that said: 'do I have to?' But his mother's face was set, and Draco knew that there was no backing out. Giving the twins one of her warmer smiles, his mother gestured for them to follow.

Though Draco had wanted to stay closer to his mother, he wasn't sure which rooms the twins would be staying in, so he found himself trailing behind her, closer to the twins. He hoped that they wouldn't try to talk to him - ordinarily, he was a rather social person, but his encounter with his Aunt Bella had left him rather shaken, and something about the way that the twins kept sneaking glances at him just made him feel weird. Why did they have to keep looking at him as if they were waiting for something to happen? It was unnerving.

"How have you been, Draco?" Harry eventually asked.

Draco blinked in surprise. What an odd question from someone he was certain he had never met. And why were the twins addressing him so personally when they hadn't had a proper introduction? The twins might not act as intimidating as Aunt Bella, but they seemed to have inherited her weirdness. He had heard that madness and insanity ran in the Black bloodline (though naturally someone like him and his mother were unaffected), so perhaps the twins weren't quite right in the head.

"I've been - well," Draco said stiffly.

"Do you still fly often?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "How do you know I fly?"

"Dragon," his mother interrupted, turning back to look at him. "There's no need to take that tone with your cousins. Why don't you tell them about the broom that your father got for you for your last birthday."

Draco thrust out his chin as though wanting to stubbornly protest, but wilted under his mother's unyielding gaze. He sighed dramatically, and began to explain his broom. Though the twins listened attentively (unlike unlike the rather dull-minded Gregory and Vincent) and asked interesting questions, Draco was now determined not to like them. They were weird intruders who had no place in his home, even if they were related to him. There was no way he could ever like anyone that was the progeny of Aunt Bella.

-o-

Narcissa walked along the corridor leading to the Malfoy library, her feet sinking into the plush fabric underfoot. It was the following day, and she wanted to speak to her sister Bellatrix. Sleep had been difficult the previous night. While Narcissa was happy that her sister had returned looking well, and while Narcissa was glad to hear that the Dark Lord was in fact still alive and determined to lead their cause, it bothered her that her sister was so obsessive. Bellatrix had always been that way, even has a child and she had a tendency towards single-mindedness. But Bellatrix had let her obsessions get her locked away in Azkaban once already, and Narcissa feared losing her sister again.

And what of the twins? Bellatrix had been so close to them before they departed on their journey to the continent, but now, there appeared to be a rift (at least between Bellatrix and Holly.) What had caused it? Was it serious? She turned a corner, and entered the ornately carved double doors that led to the library.

Narcissa did not spend a great deal of time in the Malfoy library. She preferred the gardens in the spring and summer, and the orangery the rest of the year. But Lucius could often be found in the library when he wasn't in his study, and he was here now with Bellatrix.

Yesterday, when Lucius had realized that Bellatrix had returned and had spoken to the Dark Lord, Narcissa could tell that her husband had been alarmed (though he hid it well under his controlled, smooth demeanour.) But Narcissa, who had been married for him for years, knew him well enough to understand what he was feeling beneath the surface. Hearing confirmation that the Dark Lord was alive was significant. There had been no trace of the Dark Lord for years and Lucius had been making plans and machinations in the Ministry that were based on the assumption that the Dark Lord was gone. Knowing that the Dark Lord was alive, and that he expected his followers to help him return meant a change of direction.

Once Lucius had overcome his shock, he became seized with a newfound sense of fervor. Like Narcissa, he too had struggled to sleep, but it was because he was silently making plans for the future, trying to think of how to gain the greatest advantage for his House and his family.

As Narcissa entered the bright and spacious library, with its floor to ceiling windows, and its shelves upon shelves of ancient and priceless books, she spotted her husband and her sister at the central wooden desk, pouring over books. The desk was immense - much larger and more ornate than anything that would be found in any of the magical schools, so Lucius and Bellatrix were not forced to sit too close together.

"Good morning, dear. Good morning, Bella," Narcissa greeted as she made her way to the desk. She gave her husband a light kiss on the cheek. He greeted her in return before pulling out his wand and conjuring her a beautiful chair to sit on.

"Cissy." Bellatrix barely glanced up from her books, and saw no point in frivolous pleasantries. "Have you come to help?"

"I'll do what I can," Narcissa answered graciously as she settled on the chair. "What are you currently searching for?"

"Anything that can bring the Dark Lord's body back," Bellatrix told her, unhelpfully, not even looking up from what she was reading.

"From my understanding, the Dark Lord survived the events of seven and a half years ago due to his great power and a certain sort of Dark Magic that tied him to this world. However, he has not informed any of us of what that magic is," Lucius explained.

"The Dark Lord has his reasons," Bellatrix defended, shooting Lucius an irritated glare.

"Indeed," Lucius drawled. "The point is, due to this magic, he remains in this world, but exists largely in an incorporeal state - it is this incorporeal state that led many to believe that the Dark Lord was gone forever. His power remains, but without a body, his ability to act is limited. We're trying to find the spell or ritual that will bring him back his physical form."

"I see." Narcissa glanced down at the books upon the table. "What have you started on?"

"We are starting with a more specific search on magics that related to physicality, vitality and strength," Lucius intoned, gesturing to the books on the table. "However, if that yields nothing, we will broaden our search into general rituals, or other related magics. Thus far, most of the spells we have found can only strengthen or enhance one's existing body. There are a few spells that create temporary bodies as well, however that would not be sufficient for our Lord. It's unfortunate that we don't know how he attained his immortality in the first place. It would be much easier if we had that knowledge on hand."

"Are you questioning the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix demanded, her eyes flashing angrily.

"Of course not," Lucius answered smoothly. "I was merely making an observation."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You'd do well to have more faith in the Dark Lord. He's the most powerful of all of us, and when he returns, we can finally restore the wizarding world to its proper state of greatness."

"Naturally," Lucius replied, his words a perfect mix of politeness with an edge of condescension.

"We all look forward to the day that the Dark Lord returns," Narcissa cut in, not wanting the tension between her husband and her sister to escalate. She glanced around the library. "Bella, where are the twins? I don't see them here in the library."

"Hmm? The twins?" Bellatrix gestured distractedly with one hand. "Oh, they can take care of themselves."

Narcissa's lips turned downwards ever so slightly. "What do you mean, take care of themselves? Have you provided lessons for them?"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Unlike widdle Dwaco, my babies are clever and resourceful. I trust them. They don't need a mummy coddling them all day and night."

"Draco is a clever and independent boy," Narcissa said hotly, agitated by Bellatrix's ability to get under her skin. Ordinarily, Narcissa had iron self-control, but Bellatrix had always been an exception, and her sister knew exactly what to say to rile her. "I don't spend my day coddling him. As you can see, I'm not with him now."

"There's no reason to attack our _legitimate_ heir," Lucius added.

"Enough of this!" Narcissa cried before Lucius and Bellatrix could descend into petty arguing. "This isn't about Draco. This is about the twins."

"Are you questioning my abilities as a mother, Cissy? You? You have no idea just how capable and talented my babies are. Unlike your son, the twins are able to harness and control their own magic."

Narcissa's expression became troubled. "What do you mean? Surely you don't have them practicing magic -"

"I do!" Bellatrix proudly crowed, her dark eyes almost unnaturally bright.

Narcissa gasped. "Bella! That's - that's dangerous! Haven't you thought of the harm it could do to them? How could you?! They're just children!"

"They're more than just children," Bellatrix retorted. "When the Dark Lord see just what I've done with them -"

"This is all just about the Dark Lord?" Narcissa shook his head. "He is truly a powerful wizard, but Bella - you're going to far!"

Bellatrix's face contorted in anger. "You're wrong! I'm doing what's best for _all of us_!"

"How can you be sure?" Narcissa asked stubbornly. "I don't believe it was all in my head to see that something has changed between you and the twins. Holly in particular, seems noticeably distant."

"You don't know anything!" Bellatrix shrieked, and Narcissa recoiled at the shrillness of her tone, and the crazed look in her eyes. "You weren't there! No! You were here, in your cozy mansion, wearing your fancy robes and worrying about your pretty hair! _I_ was the one wandering the woods looking for the Dark Lord. _I_ was the one spending hours in Durmstrang, looking through text after text until my eyes ached and burned!"

"I -" Narcissa found herself at a loss for words. She felt the gentle touch of her husband's hand on her arm.

"Perhaps this isn't the best time to speak of this matter," Lucius suggested gently.

Narcissa gave her husband a troubled look but then she nodded in agreement. "You're right dear." She had lived most of her life accustomed to Bellatrix's wild mood swings. How was this situation any different? There was no talking to Bellatrix when she was caught up in such a mood but perhaps some gentle prodding at a later time might help. Narcissa knew that when it came to Bellatrix, it wasn't wise to try and fight fire with fire. "I suppose I'll go find the twins then. They can study with Draco's tutor until we find them one of their own."

Bellatrix's eyes flashed and she looked ready to argue. But then, like a switch, she seemed to lose interest and shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, Cissy. You always were a sensitive one."

It took far too much effort to try and remain dignified rather than huffing in frustration, but somehow, Narcissa managed to remain calm. She excused herself and stood up. With a graceful swish of her wand, she vanished the chair. Narcissa left the library and made her way towards the direction of the wing where the twins were staying. Their rooms were very close to Bellatrix's own, but were still a separate set of suites. She had been uncertain of whether or not the twins would want individual rooms, but the twins seemed as close to another as ever.

As Narcissa walked, true calmness began to reassert itself. She knew that it was pointless to allow Bellatrix's words to rile her up. As much as Narcissa loved her sister, Bellatrix could also be a trial to endure. She made her way past the main hall and towards the twin's and Bellatrix's wing. This wing of the manor contained more portraits than the parts of the manor that Narcissa and her family frequented. Some portraits had rather strong personalities, and since shutting them away in the attic was often considered mildly offensive, it made sense to put them in some out-of-the-way corridor.

"What hath brought thee to our f'rgotten parts, mistress?" a portrait called out to her.

"Not to speak to you, Ampelius," another portrait answered. "I imagine she's here to speak to the children. Good blood, the Blacks. Shame about their mother though."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the portrait. She hated when other spoke badly of her family. Her sense of pride in being a Black ran deeply. But there was never an appropriate time to get into arguments with portraits.

"Tizzy!" Narcissa called out. Seconds later, the diminutive house-elf appeared, her eyes large and eager.

"Yes, Mistress Narcissa? How can Tizzy serve you?"

"Tizzy, can you check if the twins are in their chambers? If they are, do announce me."

The house-elf nodded and vanished. Moments later, the twin's chamber doors opened and Narcissa made her way in.

The twins were seated on the cream-coloured damask sofa, but both of them stood when Narcissa entered. She immediately noticed the dark circles under their eyes - with their pale skin, it was difficult to miss. They both looked as though they barely slept, though she imagined all their travelling to be wearying. Their expressions were polite, as though intending to show interest, but they were still only children, and Narcissa could see their guardedness. Her heart melted at the sight. She had always wanted more children - growing up with two other sisters had been a joy to her, and she had secretly always wanted for Draco to have the same experience. But it was a Malfoy tradition to only have a single heir, so as to not split the family fortune, and since Narcissa only had Draco, she couldn't help spoiling him and giving him everything he wanted.

"Hello Harry, Holly. Please, sit."

The twins sat down and Narcissa sat at the armchair adjacent to their sofa. "You have beautiful manners," Narcissa praised, hoping to set the twins at ease. "Did you have many opportunities to practice?"

The twins exchanged glances. "Thank you," Harry replied. "We practiced whenever we were in a wizarding village, and when we were in Durmstrang, though only with the professors."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows slightly. Bellatrix had mentioned Durmstrang, but with emotions so heated, Narcissa hadn't given the comment much thought. It seemed strange to consider such young children wandering around a prestigious and serious school like Durmstrang.

"Did you like it in Durmstrang?" Narcissa inquired. A troubled look crossed the twin's faces, and Narcissa felt a small sense of foreboding. "Or the wizarding villages?" Narcissa decided to add. "Were the wizarding villages as nice as the ones here in England? Ah - you haven't been to any of the wizarding villages around here have you? We'll have to take you some time. I'm sure Draco would enjoy the trip as well." She realized she was rambling, but at least the twins no longer wore such dark expressions. In fact, they seemed to perk up in interest.

"Yes, Aunt Narcissa, we'd be happy to see a wizarding village with - Draco," Holly chirped.

Narcissa gave her a warm smile. She asked them a few more questions about their travels but noticed that it was difficult to get more than a sentence out of them. It was such a contrast to Draco, who loved to talk. And it was clear to Narcissa from the twin's articulateness that they were nothing like Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. She hoped that over time, she could get them to open up to her.

"What of your lessons?" Narcissa finally asked. "Has Bella assigned you anything?"

The twins looked at one another before looking back at Narcissa, shaking their heads slightly. "Should we be practicing our magic with Draco?" Harry queried uncertainly.

"No!" Narcissa burst out, and the twin's eyes widened as they gave her an alarmed look. But Narcissa managed to quickly gather herself. "No," she repeated, much more calmly. "There won't be any magic involved. Just books, parchment and quills. In fact, it really would be best if neither of you practiced magic while you were here. It's - it would be safer that way."

The twins shared a look. "Oh. Okay."

"In fact, I think it best if you give me your wands," Narcissa decided.

A troubled look crossed the twin's faces.

Narcissa softened her tone. "I don't mean this as a punishment. It's only a matter of safety. No one here in the manor will harm you."

The twins still appeared stiff and wary.

"Will you tell me why it's so important for you to keep your wands?" Narcissa asked gently.

Harry bit down on his lip, while Holly's expression hardened. The twins had always seemed so like-minded to Narcissa that their differing expressions surprised her.

Harry pursed his lips. "It's dangerous."

"What do you mean?"

"According to Professor Sauvasen, our wands injure people," Holly explained. "It burned Her hands when she tried to touch them, and it burned Professor Sauvasen as well."

"Her?" Narcissa was puzzled by Holly's odd choice of words.

"Mama," Harry cut in. "It burned mama's hands and Professor Sauvasen's finger."

"Why don't you refer to Bella as your mother?" Narcissa asked Holly.

Holly's green eyes became flinty. "I don't want to talk about this," she said flatly. "She's not a good person."

Narcissa opened her mouth to defend her sister, but changed her mind at the last moment. If anyone knew best about Bellatrix's erratic nature, it would be Narcissa. She hoped to find out what had happened between Bellatrix and Holly, but it was evident that she wouldn't get any answers now. Perhaps there would be a chance if she could speak to Harry on his own.

"May I see the wands?" Narcissa asked, changing the topic.

The twins reached into their pockets and pulled out the wands, opening their palms so that Narcissa could see. As far as she could tell, there was nothing special about the wands - in fact, they were much less adorned than anything that one would find at Ollivander's, who was the purveyor of wands in Diagon Alley.

It was difficult for Narcissa to hide her doubt. "You're quite certain that these will burn me?"

"We think so," Harry answered, "but we're not entirely sure."

Determined to try (especially since the wands did not appear to hurt the twins at all,) Narcissa reached out and touched one of the wands. She cried out, snatching her hand back when she felt the hot burning pain at her fingertips.

The twins gave her matching looks of concern, and Narcissa quickly pulled out her own wand to heal her damaged skin.

"Why would Bella give you such wands?" Narcissa questioned with disbelief. "What was she thinking? I -" Narcissa frowned, "- I can't have you using such wands. What if Draco tries to touch them? I'll have to ask Lucius what we can do about this - he has better knowledge about handling Dark items. In the meantime -" Narcissa knit her brows slightly, not enough to cause wrinkles, but enough to show that she was thinking. "Hm - why don't you just leave the wands here in your rooms. I'll tell the house-elves to make sure that Draco can't enter."

The twins nodded in assent, and placed their wands on the side table next to the sofa.

"Thank you. Now, we'll have to decide what to do about your lessons. For now, you can share Draco's tutor, Mr Praos. I'm sure he'll appreciate the company." Narcissa stood up. "Come along, then."

The twins shared a look before obediently standing and following their aunt. Draco might have seemed to have forgotten them, but they still looked forward to spending time with him.

-o-

As Harry slowly became aware, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in Malfoy manor. Instead, he was in a dark and dirty place, where rubbish was strewn everywhere and the atmosphere was thick with a sense of doom. It didn't take long for Harry to realize that he was dreaming, and furthermore, he had a feeling that this wasn't his dream. That could only mean that he was in Holly's dream. But where was his sister?

"Holly?" he called out hesitantly. The room seemed to swallow up all sound. It felt both suffocating, and yet, endless. He had to get out.

Distantly, Harry was aware that this was the first dream the twins had had since they returned to Malfoy manor. They were so exhausted in the first few days that they had fallen into long, dreamless nights, and blurred days. But Harry hadn't been expecting a nightmare. They were back in a safe and familiar place. Shouldn't that bring peace of mind?

"Holly?" Harry called again. He walked forward, and the room seemed to narrow into a hall. It was starting to remind him a bit of Durmstrang. He felt a frisson of fear, but recognized that the feelings weren't his own - they were Holly's.

"Holly!" he cried out in alarm, and began to run. Maddeningly, it felt like he was trying to run through sludge. Holly's fear intensified, causing Harry's own emotions to become a tumultuous mess of panic and uncertainty. Where was she? Suddenly, he heard a shrill scream of pain that seemed to pierce through his very core.

"Holly! Wake up!" he sent forth his magic, attempting to find her. He could sense that she was close, so why couldn't he see her? He turned a corner, but then felt something grabbing at his ankle. When he looked down, he was horrified to see a bloody, twisted-up muggle, moaning pitifully.

"Help me," the muggle moaned, looking up with bloodshot, beseeching eyes. The muggle reached his other hand upwards, clutching at Harry's robe.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. "Please - I have to find my sister."

"But my wife -" the muggle mewled, pitifully. Harry suddenly noticed another muggle in the shadows, just as bloody and twisted, and visibly pregnant.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated brokenly, feeling horrible. He yanked himself away, and heard another of Holly's screams which seemed to reverberate through the entire dream.

"Wake up Holly! It's just a dream!" He sent forth his magic again, but this time, instead of trying to find her, his magic was more like sharp snap, meant to wake her. He knew it had worked when Holly's scream stopped and he could no longer sense her. But Harry must have used more magic than he thought. He felt drained, and he sighed.

He thought: 'Perhaps I should try to wake up too, now that Holly is awake,' but instead, he closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful state of nothingness.

When Harry woke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was that Holly wasn't in the bed with him. He looked across the room, and saw her curled up in a ball in the armchair by the window.

"Holly?" he croaked groggily. She looked towards him, and her face was pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She climbed out of the chair, and sat next to him on the bed.

"You didn't sleep?" Harry asked, feeling the fog in his mind start to clear.

Holly shook her head, her mouth pursed in a thin, unhappy line. Harry reached towards her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, sending her a reassuring flow of comfort.

"Was it the dream?" Harry murmured. Harry felt her nodding against his shoulder.

"I just - wish -" she sighed, "I wish we away from all this. Away from _Her_. Away from the Dark Lord. Away from everything."

"Everything?" Harry echoed with concern. "But - we just got back here!"

Holly made a discontented noise. "Yeah, but it's different. Draco is different. All anyone cares about now is finding the Dark Lord, and I _won't_ follow him."

Harry frowned, but from Holly's angle, she didn't notice. "We've hardly even spoken to Draco - and we never really see him outside our lessons."

Holly turned her head to give Harry a disbelieving look. "Haven't you paid any attention to the way he _looks_ at us? He looks like he's silently cursing us - or something like that."

"But we don't necessary know that that means anything," Harry argued. "Don't you at least want to find out why Draco is so different?"

Holly huffed with frustration. "Well I just don't like it. I wish we were gone. But -" Holly bit down on her lower lip, "- at least I have you."

Harry hugged his sister closer. "I'm glad I have you too." Silently, he added, 'but I want to have my whole family too.' Nonetheless, it was reassuring to know that his sister was on his side. It wouldn't be easy to convince Holly to forgive Bellatrix, but Harry couldn't forget the Dark Lord's words. Influence was important. He needed to know how to master it.

But in the time being, what was important was making Holly feel better. "Should we skip our lessons today?" Harry asked.

Holly sighed. "Better not. I - I don't mind Mr Praos. And Aunt Narcissa."

A small smile pulled at Harry's lips. "Yeah. Aunt Narcissa is nice." He gave her one more reassuring squeeze. "We should get ready then."

Holly nodded in agreement, and they climbed out of bed.

As they stood before the bathroom mirror, attempting to brush out their thick manes of hair, Harry frowned, as the mirror exclaimed: "Why, you two look dreadful! What you need is Madam Belleza's eye cream. You can't go out looking like a pair of ne'er-do'wells!" The mirrors in their tent had been critical, but the ones in Malfoy manor were much worse. Harry shook his head, having no inclination to waste energy on defending his appearance to the mirror. When he and Holly finished their morning ablutions, they made their way down towards Draco's study. In the corridor outside the study, they met up with Draco, who raised his eyebrows as he took in their appearance.

"You two look worse every time I see you," Draco observed. A wicked gleam entered into his eyes. "Do you take beauty advice from hags?" He chortled at his own joke, while Harry muttered, "Shut it."

Draco gave the twins a smug smirk before entering the study. The tutor, Mr Praos, had decided to keep their lessons in the same room rather than moving the three children to a larger room. Instead, he transfigured Draco's desk into a larger (and slightly less ornate) desk, placed near the center of the room so that all of them could sit at the table. They sat in their seats, and after Mr Praos greeted them, he began his lesson with a question, as he always did.

"Today, our lesson is going to be focused on Euclidean geometry. Can you tell me why Euclidean geometry is important?"

The twin's shared a bewildered look.

Draco gave the twins a smug glance before he answered. "Euclidean geometry is significant in numerous rituals and in Arithmancy."

"Very good, Mr Malfoy." The tutor looked towards the twins. "Since we're still trying to determine the scope of your knowledge, can you tell me what you know about Euclidean geometry, Mr and Miss Black?"

Holly squirmed in her chair while Harry frowned. The twin's education had been extremely spotty. There were certain subjects in which they were advanced beyond their years, but there were other topics that they knew next to nothing about, and unfortunately, geometry was one topic in which there were huge gaps in their knowledge.

"Erm -" Harry have the tutor an uncertain look. "We don't really know very much."

The tutor knit his brows. "Not very much? What about the five postulates? The five common notions?"

The twins shook their heads and Draco began to snicker.

"You don't know?" Draco asked incredulously, his eyes bright with glee. "Merlin! Didn't Aunt Bella teach you two _anything_? What next? Do you even know what Arithmancy is? I bet you don't even know the most powerful magical numbers!"

"We know!" Harry retorted defensively, as Holly scowled.

"Mr Malfoy," Mr Praos admonished, "It's highly inappropriate to mock others for what they do not know. In the past few lessons, Mr and Miss Black have proven themselves proficient in other subjects. We're simply going to have to get them caught up. We'll start with the basics."

"But I already _know_ the basics!" Draco whinged, his mouth forming into a pout.

"Yes," the tutor answered patiently, "I'll give you some geometry problems to work on while I teach Mr and Miss Black."

Draco gave Mr Praos a mutinous look but in the end, he obeyed, though he did nothing to hide his ill temper. As Mr Praos lectured, Harry was quickly able to grasp the concepts. But Holly, who was badly sleep-deprived, struggled to understand, so while Mr Proas repeated the concepts, Harry looked over at Draco.

Draco was staring down at his worksheet, wearing a look that was a mix of irritation and concentration. He was tapping the feathered end of his quill against the table and the tip of his tongue peeked out of his mouth, making him look much more disarming compared to the past few days. Harry wondered how Draco could have changed so much. Was it just because Draco was upset about them leaving? His letters (before the twins stopped receiving them) hadn't indicated anything particularly amiss. But Draco had frequently mentioned that things at the manor just weren't the same without the twins. Perhaps Draco had been more upset than he had revealed. Besides, they were all still young enough that writing eloquently was no easy task.

Harry's musings were interrupted by a sharp pain in his scar, as Holly suddenly cried out: "I don't know!"

Harry looked towards his sister with concern, and noticed that both Holly and Mr Praos appeared to be upset.

Draco snorted with amusement. "Too stupid to understand basic geometry?" he taunted.

Holly made a sound of frustration, and the room seemed to become uncomfortably hot. Seconds later, Draco's parchment and quill burst into flames, and with a cry, Draco flung away his quill, and scrambled away from the table. Harry's eyes widened in alarm. Had Holly intended to do that? Neither of them had their wands, and it had been a while since either of them had performed an act of accidental magic.

As Mr. Praos frantically waved his wand to put out the fire, Draco looked over at Holly and burst out: "Did you do that on purpose? Merlin, what's wrong with you? Don't you have any self-control?"

"What's wrong with _you_?" Holly retorted, her expression changing from frustration to anger.

"Only _babies_ can't control their emotions, which leads to dangerous outbursts of magic," Draco sharply answered. To Harry's dismay, he felt the pain in his scar intensify and the room became even hotter.

"Holly!" Harry cried out reaching towards his sister. He sent forth a flow of calm as he grabbed her hand. To his relief, the pain in his scar decreased and the room lost its uncomfortable heat. Holly looked towards him, and Harry could feel the frustration simmering within her. She stood up abruptly, and dashed out of the room. Harry called out to her again, and after giving the tutor an apologetic look, he chased after Holly.

As he looked out of the study, his sister was nowhere in sight. But Harry had a feeling that he knew where she would head. He found her in one of the corridors that led toward their wing of the manor. As Holly heard his footfalls, she slowed and turned around to face him.

"Holly?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you all right?"

Holly's expression was troubled. "I'm - I'm just so tired." She sighed. "Does Mr Praos hate me now?"

"He didn't look mad," Harry recalled. "I think he was worried though."

Holly sighed again. "I - I should go back and apologize to him, shouldn't I."

Harry gave his sister a sympathetic look and hugged her. "Why don't you go back to our room and take a nap. I'll speak to Mr. Praos for you."

Holly nodded gratefully, and pulled away from the hug. "But - don't apologize to Draco. He -" she knit her brows, "- I don't like him anymore. He's too different."

Harry could tell that there would be no swaying Holly. Not when she was feeling tired and cross. Instead, he nodded. "I'll come up to the room later so you don't have to be alone."

The tension seemed to leave Holly's body, and she gave him a tight smile. "See you soon then." Harry nodded in reply. The twins split ways, and Harry ventured back to the study. As Harry entered the room, he noticed that Mr. Praos appeared worried, but Draco was wearing a stubborn expression. Harry wondered what had transpired when he left the room. Though Draco looked like he wanted to speak, he stayed silent and instead, glaring at Harry.

"Is everything all right?" the tutor asked. "Where's Miss Black?"

"Holly went back to our room," Harry told Mr Praos. "She isn't feeling very well. She's sorry about what happened."

"She better be," Draco muttered. Mr Praos gave Draco a disapproving look but his expression changed to sympathy when he turned back to Harry.

"I understand," Mr Praos answered kindly. "Well you be staying for the rest of the lesson?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm going to make sure Holly is all right."

The tutor nodded. "Ah, of course. I'll give you some materials to read so that you can get caught up in your studies then." He called for a house elf to bring a copy of an introductory book about the basics of Euclidean geometry, as well as a few sheets of practice questions. Harry collected the materials and thanked him before returning to Holly. By the time he was back in their room, Holly was already asleep. He set down the books and parchment on one of the tables, and made his way to the bedside.

Harry knit his brows as he looked over at Holly. He was glad that she was getting rest, but he couldn't help but feel that they were getting further and further apart. What had happened to the days when they felt like they were of one mind? When they did almost everything together? Knowing that it would be unproductive (and boring) to watch over her as she slept, Harry sighed, and padded over to the table, looking over the book and worksheet that Mr Praos had given him. Since there wasn't much else to do, Harry sat down and began reading through the material.

In the days that followed the twins tried their best to fall into a routine. Holly had been embarrassed to return to their lessons after her outburst, but to her relief, Mr Praos had been extremely kind and understanding, and Holly found her estimation of the man increasing. Mr Praos was unassuming, both in appearance and personality, with his mousy brown hair, and passive demeanour, but Holly appreciated the man's placid temperament. To her, it was a wonderful change from the dramatic Bellatrix, or the spiteful Durmstrang students.

For the twins, their lessons became one of their favourite parts of the day. Because both of them liked Mr Praos, Mr Praos in turn liked the twins. Harry, who was still trying to figure out the puzzle of influence, couldn't help but be aware that this was a form of influence. Was it really so simple that liking and respecting others would be enough to change their attitudes? But when Harry considered Draco (and Draco's continued dislike towards them), Harry realized that influence was more complicated than just showing interest and kindness towards others. Nonetheless, the twin's attitude towards Mr Praos was making a difference in their lives.

To Harry's alarm, Holly still continued to have nightmares and outbursts. The experiences of the past few months had a much more detrimental effect on Holly than on Harry, and Holly often struggled to control her own temper (and by extension, her magic.) Most nights, Harry had to make use of his magic to try and wake his sister, which meant they both suffered from constant, interrupted sleep. But because the twins were respectful and kind towards Mr Praos, the man was extremely forgiving towards Holly, sometimes even bending over backwards to try and make her feel better. The tutor was accustomed to bratty and disdainful pure-blood children. To him, Harry and Holly's sweet natures (aside from Holly's angry outbursts), meant that he couldn't help but like them, and want them to succeed.

Beyond their lessons, Holly rarely ever wanted to leave the twin's chambers. After their experience at Durmstrang, she had developed a strong aversion towards feeling exposed, and nothing was worse than twisting corridors where anyone could jump out and harm them at any time. Harry and tried his best to convince her that it was safe here at the manor, and there was no one who would leap out and try and curse her. But while Holly was aware of the truth and logic of those words, it didn't change how she felt. Aside from trekking from their rooms to the study, or to the dining hall, Holly preferred the comfort and safety of their room.

Harry had been understanding at first. He liked Holly's company more than anyone else's, and it was important to him to try and make her feel better. But being cooped up in their chambers was starting to become intolerable. Harry was young and full of energy, and he longed to explore and play, but he didn't know how to balance his own desires with Holly's need for safety.

As they were finishing up their lessons for the day, Harry looked over at his sister, who was finishing up her notes. Mr Praos' kindness towards her had motivated get to make an extra effort in their lessons, and she was making quick and impressive progress.

"Do you want to go see Hamal and Sheratan?" he questioned. The hitzetiers were one of the few reasons that Holly was even willing to leave their room.

"Are you talking about those stupid looking goats?" Draco ridiculed.

Harry shot Draco an irritated look. "Shut up. You're just jealous that you don't have your own."

"I am not!" Draco protested, sounding noticeably defensive. "What would I do with a hairy beast like that anyway?"

"Well since you don't have one, I guess there's no way for you to find out," Harry replied tartly.

"My parents would buy me one if I wanted," Draco argued.

Harry shrugged, losing interest in the conversation. He looked back over at Holly, who had set down her quill and was biting down on her lower lip, a conflicted expression on her face.

"So do you want to go?" Harry asked her hopefully.

"I - I'd rather we go back to our room."

Harry knit his brows. "But we spend _all_ our time in our room. And Hamal and Sheratan didn't even see us yesterday."

"Why do you spend all your time in your rooms?" Draco interjected. "Are you _afraid_?"

The twins glared at Draco, but decided to ignore him. "Fine," Holly agreed unhappily. "We can go see Hamal and Sheratan."

Harry smiled in relief. He knew that Holly was unhappy about it now, but he was sure that she would cheer up once they saw the hitzetiers. No one could stay miserable around those two affectionate creatures. Once they put away their books and parchment, they went downstairs and out a side door towards the stables. Harry glanced over at his sister, and frowned when he noticed how tense she was. He grabbed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile which she returned, albeit weakly.

When they made their way to the stables, Hamal and Sheratan seemed happy to seem them, nudging against their faces and shoulders as they sought treats, scratches and pets. Holly seemed to relax in the presence of the silvery creatures, and Harry felt like he had made the right choice by convincing her to come out.

"We should visit them more often," he remarked as he scratched Sheratan between the his horns.

Holly hummed noncommittally. But by the time they returned to their rooms, Harry couldn't help but notice that Holly seemed to be in a better mood. He knew her well enough to know what could make her happy. Surely this influence-matter couldn't be that difficult, could it?


	3. Chapter 3

Harry may have hoped that his understanding of Holly would move the twins towards having a better life, but in the days that followed, it was clear that he had misjudged just how much the events of the previous months had changed her. Though Hamal and Sheratan did make her feel better, Harry quickly discovered that Holly was stubbornly determined to remain in their chambers as often as possible. The familiar setting was where she felt the safest, and as a result, she was disinclined to ever have to leave it. To make matters worse, Holly's nightmares persisted, always with the same frightening and hopeless quality that tormented Holly with memories of pain. On nights when her dreams were especially bad, she was most vulnerable to more violent outbursts of accidental magic during the day.

Harry did his best to help his sister. The nightmares disturbed him as well, but not to the same degree that they disturbed Holly. But while he was patient when it came to the nightmares and outbursts of magic, he couldn't endure being trapped in their chambers. Being confined to such a small space made him restless and agitated, and while he liked to read, he couldn't read hour after hour and day after day, like Holly did. Nearly a week passed this way before Harry felt he had to express his frustration.

"Can't we go out?" Harry groused from where he lay sprawled out on one of the sofas. "I feel like I'm stuck in a dungeon sometimes. Don't you want to see Hamal and Sheratan?"

Holly, who was maintaining a much more dignified position from her spot on the sofa, looked up from the book she was reading. "We just saw Hamal and Sheratan yesterday."

"Yes, but don't you want to see them _everyday_? I know it's hard for you to be outside but I just - can't stand being cooped up here! I need to get out!"

Holly frowned. "I - I don't want to be alone. What if something happens?"

Harry's expression became perplexed. "What could happen? Besides, I don't want to be alone either. It's more fun when you're with me."

Holly knit her brows. "Reading is fun."

"Reading is fun, but I can't read _all day_. I want to _do_ something!" Harry's looked away from his sister towards the door, biting down on one side of his mouth as he contemplated his next words. "Maybe - maybe I should just go out by myself."

Holly gasped.

"Just for a bit!" Harry quickly added, feeling guilty for upsetting his sister.

"You would _leave_ me?" Holly's eyes were wide with hurt.

"I don't want to leave you," Harry defended. "But you won't come with me! And when you spend all day reading, you're not talking to me anyway -"

"I don't want to be alone," Holly repeated.

Harry frowned. "I don't want to leave you alone. I -" He furrowed his brows in concentration. "I wish there was a way we could stay together, even while being far apart. Like - how we can feel each other's emotions when we're touching, except if it happened at a distance."

"Stay together while being far apart?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah - then we'd never really be alone."

Holly pursed her lips and her gaze became unfocused as she considered the idea. But then she looked back at Harry. "There _must_ be some way we could do it with magic. We still have our wands."

"Yeah. We do. But Aunt Narcissa told us we were never to take them outside of our chambers, remember?"

Holly's lips turned downwards. "Yes. But - well - maybe we just shouldn't tell her. If she doesn't know, it won't hurt anyone, right?"

"Aunt Narcissa is so nice. It feels wrong - but -" Harry's expression turned resolute, "- you're right. I think something like this is more important." He scrambled up from the sofa, filled with a renewed sense of interest and excitement in life. "Let's get our wands."

The twin's wands were kept in a beautiful box that Narcissa had given them, and were shut away in one of the dresser drawers. Fortunately, neither the box nor the dresser were locked; Narcissa counted on trust and honour to ensure the twins would do the right thing. Harry felt a twinge of guilt as he opened the wand box and looked down at the familiar unadorned wands, but he forced himself to shrug off the feelings. As he grabbed the wands, he barely even flinched from the familiar oiliness of it.

He handed Holly her wand, and asked: "So what should we try?"

Holly hummed. "I don't know. I never even considered doing something like this before."

Harry tilted his head as he pondered the issue. "Why don't we focus on what our connection feels like and then go from there?"

"All right," Holly agreed.

Hours passed as the twins attempted to find a way to magically strengthen their connection. It was a fascinating magical experiment, and the twins quickly lost track of time. However, their efforts were magically draining, and by supper time, they were simultaneously ravenous, while also feeling ready to fall into bed. But excitement for the new project helped to quell Harry's restlessness. It gave him something to look forward to, and if the twins succeeded, it would feel like a major accomplishment.

Over the course of the next week, the twins spent most of their free time attempting to bolster their link. It was always strongest when they were touching, but they were still able to sense each other's emotions when they were close by. The question was how far they could extend the distance in which they could continue to sense one another. At first, their awareness of one another only extended about a metre, but after a few days, they could feel one another from across their chambers. And better yet, the amount of magic that the process required was relatively negligible - at least when they weren't too far from one another. Harry was still aware of a mild itchiness across his skin, but it was easy to tolerate compared to some of the other effects of their wands.

Finally, the twins were ready to test their connection at a greater distance. Holly decided that she would remain in their chambers while Harry ventured out into the hallway. As he left the rooms and crept out into the hall, he heard one of the portraits call out: "What are you up to, boy?"

He glanced up towards the painting and noticed a stern lady wearing a style of robes old enough that he couldn't discern what age she might have been born in. He guessed it was after the medieval period, since she wasn't speaking in old English (or even French, as some of the old Malfoy ancestors spoke.) Though the lady in the painting was regal and rather stiff, it was obvious that she was also very curious. Harry was in a good enough mood that he couldn't help giving her a friendly smile.

"I'm practicing some new magic," Harry informed the portrait, lifting up his wand to show her.

The lady arched an eyebrow. "Are you now? You have some spine, boy. Back in my day, all our children practiced magic at an early age. There was none of this business of protecting them from every scrape and harm. I myself had twelve children, though only three of them lived to adulthood."

"Wow," Harry remarked.

"Indeed," the lady replied. Harry gave her another smile before dashing off to the end of the corridor and around a corner. He had put his wand back in his pocket - when it came to connecting with Holly, it helped to have his wand close at hand, but the twins found that they didn't need to directly channel their magic through their wands. This was immensely advantageous, since Harry wouldn't have to worry about trying to keep his wand out of sight, from Narcissa's eyes.

He stood in a spot that seemed reasonably far away from Holly and began to focus on their link. Navigating their magic got easier, the more they practiced, and while Bellatrix's teaching methods had been haphazard, it was true that it gave the twins a better feel for their own magic. To Harry's delight, he was able to sense Holly fairly easily. He could sense the underlying anxiety that had persisted ever since their escapade across the continent, but he could also feel her hope and curiosity. They were mutually aware of each other's awareness, and it seemed to light up their link like the dawn of a new day. Harry couldn't help feeling buoyant with happiness. They had succeeded! Even though he couldn't see Holly, the link enabled them to feel close. And while they couldn't communicate with words this way, their emotions were still incredibly expressive.

As Harry returned to the chambers, he called out to the portrait: "It worked!" The regal lady nodded her head and gave him a small, but genuine smile. Harry opened the doors to the twins room, and when he saw spotted his sister, he echoed: "It works!"

Holly's eyes seem to sparkle with pleasure and accomplishment. "It did! I could sense you." But then her face fell. "It's still going to be strange if you're not here though."

Harry nodded sympathetically. "I know. But at least this way, if anything happens, we'll know, and we can find each other."

Holly sighed. "Yeah."

Holly looked so forlorn that Harry stepped forward and gave her a hug. "I'll stay with you today, all right?" he murmured. He could feel Holly nodding against his shoulder, as some of the tension left her body.

The next day, both Harry and Holly had a difficult time concentrating on their lessons. Draco had noticed, and hadn't failed to send a few gibes their way, but neither of them paid him much heed. Draco thrived as much on attention, as he did on his own sense of superiority, and it was usually effective to just ignore him. More often than not, Draco couldn't resist trying to escalate the situation, which would then lead to him being admonished by Mr Praos (though in truth, Mr Praos' censure had no real bite.) Harry couldn't help but feel like it would be strange to be doing anything without his sister. He had spent so much time and effort trying to make her feel better that it occurred to him that he had barely spent anytime with Bellatrix (aside from mealtimes.) Perhaps this would be the day to remedy that.

When their lessons ended, Mr Praos gave both Harry and Holly a slightly disappointed look, knowing that neither of them had put forth their best effort. Harry gave the tutor a sheepish smile as he left the study, while Holly looked forlorn enough that Mr Praos immediately changed from disappointed to worried.

"Is everything all right, Miss Black?" he queried before Holly passed the threshold of the doorway. Holly looked up at him with her luminous green eyes, fringed by soulful dark lashes, and nodded sadly. Mr Praos pursed his lips, but simply nodded. It was clear that neither of the twins were aware of how their appearance affected other people. The tutor couldn't deny that the twins had the Black family beauty, but yet, neither of them fully resembled Bellatrix.

As the twins walked back to their chambers, Holly sighed, and Harry gave her a reassuring nudge.

"I won't go far," he reminded her. "And if I sense anything wrong on your end, I'll come back right away."

Holly's lips trembled and she nodded.

"And if you fall asleep, I'll definitely go back, to make sure you don't get stuck in a nightmare."

Holly nodded again. They parted ways at the entrance of the chamber. As Holly shut the door behind Harry, he felt a strange emptiness within him. He had been longing to roam freely since he returned to the manor, but now that he was finally able to do so, he didn't know where to go.

As Harry trekked down the corridor, a familiar voice called out: "Straighten up, boy! Such posture is inexcusable!" It was the regal lady that had spoken to him the other day.

Instinctively, Harry found himself obeying, and he glanced up at the stern-faced lady.

"Who is't's th're, Lady Aloli? Bid that gent to cometh clos'r," a voice called from down the hall.

Lady Aloli frowned disapprovingly. "Ampelius has no sense of decorum," she murmured before turning her attention back to Harry. "Ah - much better. Let's take a good look at you, boy. I've seen you and your sister passing by many times before. I had thought you two were connected by the hip."

"Holly doesn't really care to go out, Madam."

The elegant lady knit her brows. "In my day, children were seen and not heard. That said, you've a hint of some natural charm, boy. It will serve you well, if you learn to use it."

Harry tilted his head, perplexed. Was he being reprimanded, or praised? An amused smile crossed Lady Aloli's lips.

"You remind me a bit of my youngest son," the lady remarked. "He was a sensitive boy. Beautiful as well. He went on to make a wonderful connection for the Malfoy family. Better even, than my first son. This was all before the tradition of having only a single heir, of course."

Harry wasn't too sure of what to say to that, so he simply nodded.

"Alas - the matter is making me sentimental. He died young - far too young. His portrait was never painted."

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured.

Lady Aloli nodded. "Well, I won't keep you. Run along boy!"

Harry gave the lady an uncertain look before nodding and wandering off. He decided he would venture down to the library to see what Bellatrix might be doing. Remembering what she had been like during their stay at Durmstrang, he imagined it would be much of the same. He hadn't been able to help her then, but perhaps he could help her now.

As Harry ambled along the corridor towards the main staircase, he heard voices in the entrance hall of the manor. From his spot near the top of the stairs, he was able to stay hidden, and his ingrained habits helped him to keep silent and still.

"I can't wait for this winter to end," a matronly voice declared.

"Indeed, even with magic, this kind of weather is terrible on fabrics," another female voice observed. "Elf! Take my outer robes, would you?"

"We can take our tea in one of the drawing rooms, though my Shimmering Glories are in bloom in the Orangery, if you prefer to take tea there," Narcissa's graceful voice remarked.

Harry's eyes took in the scene in the entrance hall. There was his Aunt Narcissa, with her silky and elegant robes as well as her familiar blonde hair, caught up in a graceful chignon. She appeared to be speaking to a plain-faced woman, and another rather thickset woman. Draco was nearby, speaking to two boys his own age. Both boys were taller and much rounder than he was, but it was obvious from Draco's body language that Draco was their leader.

"Mother, may we be excused?" Draco questioned, his voice insistent.

"Such beautiful manners he has," one of the matrons remarked.

Harry could hear the smile and affection in Narcissa's voice as she spoke. "Of course Dragon. Be sure to be back in here two hours."

"Yes mother," Draco dutifully answered, before giving the two boys a look that said 'follow me.'

"Behave yourself Vincent!" one of the ladies called out.

"You as well, Gregory. Do as Draco tells you to," the other lady added.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw that Draco was coming in his direction, but he was able to duck into the shadows, and neither Draco nor the two boys noticed him at all.

"Wait until I show you the orb my father bought me!" Draco excitedly told the boys as he rushed past. "Whatever word you say causes an image of the thing to appear centre. You can't hold it though! It's mine! But I might let you touch it if you're careful."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Draco had spoken of that orb several during their lessons, and Harry assumed that he must have enjoyed his toy a great deal, though part of him had the feeling that Draco was trying to make them jealous. Of course, if Draco's intent was to make the twins jealous, it was a failed effort - after what they had gone through, neither of them cared a great deal about toys. Harry returned his attention back to Narcissa who was leading the two ladies away. Once the coast was clear, he scampered down the stairs, and turned towards the wing that led to the library. He knew that there was no real need to hide at the manor, but it was hard to break his habit.

The Malfoy library might not have been as large and extensive as the one at Durmstrang, but it was still impressive. Everything (aside from the books themselves) was newer, and brighter, and almost seemed to glow with polish. The decorative details, such as the ornate lamps that brightened as you drew near them, or the shelf-ladder that magically materialized near the books that you needed, made the Malfoy library seem more lavish than a school library could ever hope to be. If Holly hadn't been so anxious about leaving her room, Harry thought that this would be a part of the manor where she could be happy. Fortunately for Holly, she had discovered that she could simply ask the house-elves to collect any book on any topic that she wanted, so she never actually _had_ to leave their chambers.

Harry immediately spotted Bellatrix sitting alone at the large central table and made his way towards her. However, before he could reach her side, Lucius Malfoy appeared from a side room with a book in hand, intercepting Harry's path. The older blond man arched his eyebrow in a condescending manner when he noticed Harry. Harry immediately paused in his step.

"Hello, Uncle Lucius. How do you do?" he politely greeted. If Harry had been anyone else, perhaps he would have been intimidated by the tall man's cold and haughty demeanour, but both Harry and Holly had heard far too many criticisms leveled against Lucius Malfoy by Bellatrix. It made it difficult for Harry to perceive the man in an objective manner.

"Harry," Lucius nodded, before making his way to the table and sitting down. Before Harry could even think about the encounter, Bellatrix had looked up from her mound of notes and books and noticed him.

"Harry, my sweet dear!" Bellatrix welcomed, and Harry broke into a wide smile as he made his way to her side. She reached over and hugged him close, kissing his forehead.

Conscious of Lucius' presence, he replied with "Mother," instead of his typical 'mama.' Harry peered over at her work. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Oh Harry." Bellatrix gave him an affectionate smile, patting his cheek. "What would I do without you. You'd like to help?" Bellatrix's eyes slid over towards Lucius, and a sly smile crossed her face. "You're everything I could wish for in a son. What I'm working on is quite complicated, however. Oh! I know!"

Bellatrix knit her brows as she leafed through her parchments, lifting and setting down piles of books.

"Ah! There it is!" she exclaimed, lifting up a scroll with faded ink and frayed edges. She handed the scroll over to Harry, who looked down at it. On the scroll was an odd shape, not at all geometric or symmetrical. It was complex, and unsettling, but also curiously hypnotic to look at.

Bellatrix set a pile of four books in front of Harry. "I need you to look for that symbol in these books. Mark down any places that you see the symbol. You can do that, can't you, my baby?"

Harry glanced up from the scroll towards Bellatrix and nodded eagerly. "Of course!"

Bellatrix beamed. "Truly, I couldn't ask for a better heir."

Harry felt a flush of happiness from the praise, and sat down by Bellatrix, ready to work. In his determination to make Bellatrix proud, he failed to notice the dark glare that Lucius sent Bellatrix's way.

-o-

"Your posture is much improved, boy," Lady Aloli observed, as Harry ventured down the corridor a few days after his first jaunt on his own.

Harry looked up towards the stern lady in the portrait, and executed a small bow, paired with a mischievous smile.

"Such cheek!" the lady uttered. "Truly, you do remind me of my young Terence. He always was my favourite - though of course I was always careful to treat all my children fairly." Lady Aloli's expression became misty, but she soon returned her attention back to Harry. "Hm. With a bit of polish, you could have the world wrapped around your finger."

Harry's eyebrows lifted, and he gave the lady an inquiring look.

Lady Aloli hummed. "Yes. Yes, I can see it. You've a look of sharpness in your eyes. With some help, you could be as pleasing as dearest Terence was. With a smile and a few charming looks, that boy of mine could get anyone to do anything." The lady's expression turned nostalgic once again.

"Anything?" Harry repeated.

Lady Aloli started. "Ah - yes - Terence truly did have a way with people of all sorts."

"How?" Harry wondered.

"I'd like to say he was born with it - certainly, my son had a face that could make a Veela envious - but in truth, I taught him much of what he knew," Lady Aloli admitted. "The truth is, when I was young, I had to struggle against my numerous siblings and peers to gain any attention. It was harder in those days."

"So then, what did you do?"

The lady gave Harry an assessing look, as if wanting to ascertain that he would absorb her every word. "To begin with, it's important to pay attention to everything around you. Especially people. You cannot simply listen to their words. You must also pay heed to their body language. Oftentimes, their gestures or expressions will give away what their mouths will not. Pay careful attention when words and gestures conflict."

Harry's eyebrows creased as he considered Lady Aloli's advice. He recalled the times when Holly would say she was all right, even though he could sense that something was bothering her through their emotional link. Or what about the fact that Bellatrix always had something negative to say about Lucius, but from what Harry could tell, his uncle hadn't displayed these horrible flaws that Bellatrix spoke of. What was he to believe? When he looked back at the portrait, he noticed that the lady seemed to be examining him.

"You're thinking about my words. Clever boy - it shows that your mind is still malleable," she noted.

Harry nodded. "What else should I do?"

"Start there," Lady Aloli decided. "Tell me of what you see about the manor when you return."

"Oh. All right," Harry agreed.

An amused look caused the lady's eyes to brighten. "It's been too long since I've learned anything about what's happening in the world. I shall await your return, boy."

"My name is Harry."

"Harry then. You may call me Lady Aloli. None of that 'madam' stuff for me."

Harry nodded in agreement before making his departure.

Harry found himself often visiting Bellatrix during his after-lesson periods, but on other days, he would explore the manor, or visit Hamal and Sheratan. If it was a day that he was visiting the hitzetiers, there was a chance that Holly would join him, but as the days progressed, she grew accustomed to being alone in their chambers.

If Harry ever got the slightest hint through their link that something might be amiss, he was always quick to return to Holly. And if ever she fell asleep for a nap, he always returned as well, knowing that even short naps could potentially result in nightmares. It grew easier for the twins to understand each other based on magic alone. After all, when they were separated, they couldn't use facial expressions or body language for cues.

On one excursion, Harry spent a couple of hours watching Draco on a day that Draco's friends Vincent and Gregory had come to visit. Rather than observing Draco with any feelings of envy, Harry watched with curiosity, knowing that Lady Aloli had a tendency to ask questions about the smallest details. But it was more than that - Harry still wanted to understand why Draco had changed so much.

On another excursion, Harry followed his Aunt Narcissa and watched her afternoon tea and gossip session with Madam Crabbe and Madam Goyle, the mothers of Draco's two friends. The other two ladies were nowhere near as refined and elegant as Narcissa, and from that encounter, Harry gained a deep appreciation of his Aunt's social mastery. With a few well placed comments and questions, Narcissa easily guided the conversation, and it was clear that the two matrons thought very highly of her. When Harry later reported this to Lady Aloli, the stern woman laughed and said: "Of course the Lady Malfoy would show perfect decorum and control. Mark my words, Harry - she's someone you should continue to watch if you mean to learn the art of influence."

And of course, if Harry was observing both Draco and Narcissa, then he would naturally take the time to observe Lucius as well. When Harry was in the library helping Bellatrix with something or other, more often than not, Lucius was there helping her. During these moments, Bellatrix and Lucius rarely interacted unless it was something directly related to the task at hand. They were even more distant to one another during meal times (when it was often Bellatrix and Narcissa that would bear the weight of keeping the conversation going.)

It wasn't until Harry was exploring on his own that he caught sight of how Lucius interacted with people outside the family. The elder Malfoy had been exiting his personal study, guiding one of his associates out. Harry hadn't caught the entire conversation, but he heard a great deal of "thank yous" and "I am in your debt - you've saved me. Of course you _must_ call on me to return the favour." On top of that, the man with Lucius carried himself in such a deferential way, as though he did not think himself worthy of being in Lucius's exalted presence. It was quite unsettling, since Harry was accustomed to Bellatrix's derision towards Lucius.

That one encounter might have been easy to brush off (though when Harry mentioned it to Lady Aloli, she had said: "Naturally other wizards would bow and scrape before a Malfoy." However, Harry caught sight of a few other moments where Lucius receiving visitors, and while most of those associates were not as ingratiating as the first guest that Harry had witnessed, they were all very obvious in their respect. How could Bellatrix perceive Lucius one way, while all these other people perceived Lucius in another way? But then again, Narcissa respected her husband, and Harry definitely respected his Aunt Narcissa. It made him think that perhaps it would be wrong to disregard someone like Lucius.

These were the exact thoughts that Harry found himself sharing with Lady Aloli.

"Well, of course it would be wrong to underestimate a Malfoy!" Lady Aloli pronounced. "The Blacks may be an old and powerful family, but so too are the Malfoys. If anything your lady mother displays a terrible lapse of judgement to antagonize a Malfoy, no matter the reason."

Harry frowned, not appreciating the way Lady Aloli was speaking of Bellatrix.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Harry. I'm not insulting your mother. To put things more simply, it is wiser to cultivate allies than enemies. Especially powerful allies."

Harry sighed. He knew that Lady Aloli was right. Bellatrix might be a strong witch, with remarkable dueling abilities and a forceful personality, but aside from Narcissa, she did not seem to have many friends or connections. When it came to seizing something that she wanted, she usually had to do so by force. This may have been an effective tactic in many situations, but Harry wasn't like Bellatrix - he didn't want to use coercion to get what he desired.

"What should I do then?" Harry wondered.

"You've been paying close attention to the world around you, but it isn't enough to simply watch," Lady Aloli lectured. "You must also act."

"But how should I act?"

The lady gave him an indulgent smile. "If it's influence and power you desire, then you have to understand what lies in other people's hearts. Oh, it might sound like a complicated thing, but often, what people want can be distilled down to a few core desire. To have power or influence. To make a mark on the world. To be loved. To feel important. To be noticed. To be accepted. The fact that you've been watching gives you an advantage. You see, these people's desires are very often a weakness that you must learn to identify. If you can put yourself in a position where you make others feel like they are achieving their desires, you will be indispensible. Note, I didn't say that you have to actually fulfill their desires - what matters is that you make _others_ believe that you fulfill their desires."

Harry knit his brows. "Are you saying I need to - erm - trick people?"

Lady Aloli scoffed. "Nothing of the sort. If anything, people are often all too willing to fool themselves. No, what I'm saying is that you need to be supple, like silk robes rather than that stiff coarse stuff that the lower sorts wear. If you can learn to be indispensible - to make others feel feel noticed or accomplished or loved when they are around you, then you are surely doing them good. You need not make it a pretense. By all means, _be_ loving, or accepting or encouraging. But through it all, you must always remember yourself. Remember your pride. No one desires a tatty old rug beneath their feet. Of course, as Black, that should go without saying. But you are at a malleable age yet, and rather biddable at that."

Harry's expression was uncertain, and Lady Aloli sighed.

"It would be easiest to start with the lady of the manor," Lady Aloli advised. "She already thinks well of you, and with a bit of well-placed charm, she would be the easiest to win over. That or the young boy. When it comes to young boys, all one really needs is a sufficiently impressive and reckless endeavour, and you'll be seen as a worthy comrade." She shook her head. "Young boys are so foolish. Bearing in mind that it's best not to upstage him if he is a prideful sort."

"Would it really be that simple?" Harry questioned.

"Do you doubt me? I've raised boys of my own, and I've seen the way they interact with their friends. They may think their antics go unnoticed, but a mother sees all."

Harry hummed. "I - I have a lot to think about."

An amused smile made the imposing lady seem much more benign. "Of course you do. Don't forget to tell me of your endeavours. And of course, it's natural to make mistakes. The secret is learning to make mistakes where no one notices or sees them."

"Oh. All right then." Harry nodded at Lady Aloli and departed with a great deal on his mind.

Though Harry was tempted to focus all his efforts on befriending Draco, he didn't want to make a blunder of the task. The idea that Draco could be the twin's friend again filled Harry's mind with bright possibilities. It was enough to make him nearly forget his worries, but seeing Holly always reminded him of his end purpose. Though she put on a brave face, her vulnerabilities were clear to him, and Harry was determined not only to bring his family back together, but to protect his sister in the face of any dangers that might arise.

Trusting Lady Aloli's advice, Harry decided that he would try and 'charm' his Aunt Narcissa. Lady Aloli did have some words of warning to add though, stating: "It seems to me that the young Malfoy heir is possessive of what he considers to be his. Of course, such behaviour is only natural, and as the sole heir, he hasn't had siblings to keep him in check - though sometimes siblings will increase tension and possessiveness. That said, you must tread carefully as you try to influence the elder Malfoys, lest you alienate their son, and bring his resentment upon you."

Harry wasn't entirely sure how he would go about making sure that Draco didn't feel threatened by his actions, but it seemed like a wise course of actions to interact with Narcissa (and possibly Lucius) when Draco wasn't around.

Knowing that his Aunt Narcissa spent most of her time in the Orangery (and knowing that she wasn't entertaining guests today), he ventured towards that part of the manor. He had always liked the Orangery. He might not have known a great deal about hot house plants (or any plants for that matter, aside from recognize a few wild edible fruits), but Narcissa's Orangery was a beautiful and serene place, with its magical plants, and trickling fountain.

Harry found his Aunt Narcissa watering some of her flowers, which shied away and closed their blooms when he drew near, causing Narcissa to turn around and face him.

"Oh! Hello, Harry. Don't mind the Shy Starhearts. It can take a while to earn their trust so that they bloom for you. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Hello Aunt Narcissa. How do you do? I just came by to -" he paused briefly, "- visit you."

Narcissa brightened. "Did you? Bella is always saying how sweet you are, and I can see that it's true, though we haven't had many chances to speak, you and I. You aren't helping your mother in the library today?"

"No, Aunt Narcissa. I - came to see if I could help you."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows, evidently surprised.

"Or to keep you company," Harry swiftly added.

Narcissa broke into a warm smile, transforming her already lovely face into an utterly beautiful one. It was strange how she could be so like Bellatrix, and yet so different, one fair and one dark. Though Bellatrix was also beautiful, years at Azkaban had taken their toll, and furthermore, Bellatrix always had a look in her eyes that Harry couldn't fully define, but others would probably call 'a touch of madness.'

"I would _love_ to have your company, Harry. You need not help me though." Narcissa's voice was so genuine and so welcoming that even though Harry had intended to try to influence her, he felt himself being drawn in. Aunt Narcissa was just so _kind_. Who wouldn't like her?

Since Harry appeared to show an interest, Aunt Narcissa began to tell him about her various plants. It amazed Harry that she could remember so many details about them - especially since many of them had vastly different needs. A couple of the plants liked to be sung to, and thus, were usually paired with a singing plant. Another plant liked soft caresses, and would make a cooing sound when it was touched. Harry especially liked that one and it seemed to like him back. Yet another plant released the most enticing odors, that reminded Harry of treacle, cinnamon and other lovely things.

"That one releases a different scent to each person who smells it," Narcissa informed him, as she noticed his glance. "Amazing isn't it? The scent of it always reminds me of home."

"Yeah. It is amazing," Harry agreed. The more he learned, the more he could see why Aunt Narcissa was so entranced by these plants.

Narcissa laughed. "It warms my heart to see that you're so interested. Cultivating magical plants is a fascinating and wonderful activity. I have often wished that my Dragon would show more interest in it, but boys will be boys, and he has a great deal of energy."

"Maybe he doesn't realize how interesting all these plants are," Harry suggested.

Narcissa smiled. "Do you think so?"

Harry nodded.

Narcissa's eyes seemed to dance with gentle amusement. "You really are quite charming, aren't you, Harry?"

Harry was unsure of how to respond to that. Narcissa was obviously very passionate about her plants, and Harry had found her interest to be engaging enough that he had nearly forgotten that he was supposed to be _trying_ to charm her. Her words reminded him of Lady Aloli's advice. But now, he was unsure of how to respond.

Narcissa laughed. "Oh dear. I didn't mean to embarrass you." She had mistaken his hesitance with embarrassment, and Harry was glad to hide behind that excuse, so he simply gave her a bashful look.

"You know, I'm so glad that Bella has you - you and Holly," Narcissa admitted with an affectionate note in her voice. "Having children is a good thing for her." Narcissa's expression became distant and her gaze fell upon one of her blossoms. "I always did want to have nephews and nieces. I mean, I do have - ah - nevermind that." She shook her head and gave Harry a rueful smile.

"The truth is," Narcissa continued, "I have worried for a while about the continuation of the Black line. It is such an ancient and noble lineage. The last male heir - well - he has fallen to a rather unfortunate fate." Narcissa's lips turned downwards. "It's terrible, how the Ministry thinks they can just lock up good witches and wizards - ah, I suppose I shouldn't bring up such matters. What's important is that Bellatrix has the two of you, and you are both worthy successors. Of course, once the Dark Lord returns, we can finalize all the necessary details so everything is official -"

Harry gave her a puzzled look. "Official?"

Narcissa started. "Ah - don't mind me." She smiled. "How could I have fallen to prattling on with no consideration like that? But you're so very sweet to listen so attentively, Harry. Why don't I show you how to deadhead the Shimmering Glories? They're a bit less sensitive than the other plants, but very beautiful."

"All right," Harry agreed. He was enjoying his time with Narcissa far more than he could have imagined, and as the afternoon flew by, he found himself thinking that he couldn't wait to spend time with Narcissa again.

-o-

"What are you doing?" Harry asked his sister, after returning from one of his regular visits to the library where Bellatrix often had a task available for him.

Holly had pulled one of the room's chairs up to a side table, and he could see several parchments on the table, and even a few on the floor. She was holding what appeared to be a coloured pastel, and several other pastels were scattered on the table. The image was so different than her usual orderliness when she read.

"I'm drawing," Holly informed him, as he walked up to her side and looked down at her works. "I wanted to do something other than reading, but you weren't here so I couldn't ask you what to try. So I asked the house-elf Dobby, though I know we're not supposed to make conversation with them. He's rather helpful once you get past his strange nature. He fetched me some parchment and these coloured pastels."

Harry's eyes widened as he looked down at what his sister was drawing. The images were crude, and it was clear from some of the discarded sheets of parchment that she was still struggling to create recognizable depictions, but to Harry, the images were immediately recognizable. Blacks, browns and vivid crimson colours spread across the parchment. Tortured expressions looked up at him and ominous grasping hands reached towards him. And just like the portraits and paintings, the images moved and writhed, making the most distorted and disturbing gestures. Holly was drawing the thing they had experienced and seen while they were travelling with Bellatrix. She was drawing her memories and nightmares.

A deep chill ran down Harry's spine. He didn't need to ask Holly why she was doing what she was doing. Through their link, he could already sense why. When he had been in the library with Bellatrix, he had sensed only deep concentration from Holly and had assumed that she had just found a particularly fascinating book. But now he knew that it was something else. This was her way of working through her emotions. Whereas Harry was mostly able to set his own memories of the past aside, Holly couldn't do so - not when nightmares plagued her night after night, and the remaining pain of the past still haunted her waking life. To Holly, being stuck with Bellatrix _was_ her nightmare.

Seeing what Holly was trying to draw made Harry feel more protective than ever. He didn't foolishly berate her for drawing scary things, or tell her to stop. Instead, he picked up one of the drawings that Holly was finished with. It looked like a muggle lying on the floor, surrounded by a spreading pool of blood. As Harry examined it, it seemed to come to life and clarify. His eyes widened.

"I remember this person," he murmured. "I remember."

Holly looked up at him and curtly nodded, shifting her glance towards the parchment. "I don't think they deserved what happened. I don't think any of them deserved what happened. They - they can't be just ants. They're more. _I_ believe that they're more."

Harry was unsure of how to respond. He didn't want to think that muggles might be more than just pests. The notion was too horrifying. He set down the picture and picked up another one. An evil-looking face poked out from around a corner, and then a beam of bluish light shot towards him. It was one of the Durmstrang students trying to curse him. More bad memories.

"I won't let anyone or anything hurt you," Harry vowed to his sister. "_I _can find a way to keep you safe."

Holly only gave him a sad smile in reply. He could sense her doubts, but he was determined to prove her wrong. Yes, it was true that she suffered a great deal while they were travelling, and his abilities had been limited. But the more he learned about influence, the more he was able to understand the merits of power. Having power would keep his family safe. And as much as he wanted to know the methods of influencing others, he now wanted to gain power as well. What better place was there to learn about power than here at Malfoy manor, where he was staying with one of the most powerful families in Magical Britain?

If Harry had thought that Holly's attempts at drawing would be a passing phase, he was soon proven wrong. Though Holly continued to spend a great deal of her time reading, she now devoted just as much time to refining her artistic abilities, and the more she drew, the better her drawings became.

"Art is a perfectly acceptable, ladylike activity," Lady Aloli had proclaimed, when Harry had told her what his sister was doing. Of course, he hadn't told the lady the subject of Holly's drawings - only that Holly spent a great deal of time drawing.

"Erm -"

Lady Aloli frowned. "I've told you before, Harry. If you have to think about what to say, don't say things like 'erm' or 'ah' or 'um.' It makes you sound like a dullard. If you need to think of your next words, try to do so in silence."

"- all right. Well -"

Lady Aloli sighed. "Tell me Harry, are matters going well with the Lady of the manor?"

Harry brightened. "Yeah! Aunt Narcissa is so -" he paused, trying to find the right word, or at least something better than just saying that she was 'nice.'

"- gracious," he finished.

"Gracious is she?" Lady Aloli echoed. "As lady of Malfoy manor, of course she should be. Nonetheless, it is good to hear that you like her. Not all ladies are so amiable you know."

"Aunt Narcissa is _very_ amiable. I usually help her in the Orangery with all her exotic flowers. My favourite is Heartscent but I also really like the Trillbells -"

"Yes, yes, Harry. Remember, when you speak, to keep your audience in mind. While the lady of the manor might enjoy hearing you prattling on about flowers and plants for hours on end, I can scarcely endure the same. Now tell me more about how the lady treats you, and whether her manners have changed when she is around others."

Harry nodded and dutifully told Lady Aloli what she wanted to hear. He was accustomed to her brusque ways. The lady had once told him that in her younger days, she was much more cordial and accommodating, but as she grew older and gained more power, she learned to speak her mind ("- and of course you're family Harry, so it's quite all right to tell you what I think of things.")

After Harry finished his account, Lady Aloli's expression turned thoughtful. Harry could tell by the way she absently played with the ornate jeweled bracelet at her wrist.

"It sounds to me as though you have won your way into the lady's heart," Lady Aloli concluded. "You've done very well, Harry. Have you tried anything with the son yet?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm not really sure what to do." His expression became conflicted.

The lady arched her eyebrows. "No? Why so fretful Harry?"

Harry's shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Draco, Holly and I used to be very close. I just -" he sighed again, "- I hate the idea of messing up and not having him as a friend."

"Ahh - I see. You underestimate yourself. However, I will say that having the Malfoy heir is an important connection so I understand how you may want to tread carefully."

Harry nodded. "Should I try something with Uncle Lucius then?"

Lady Aloli's brows knit slightly. "The Malfoy patriarch will be the most difficult of all for you to win over. From the little you've told me, he doesn't strike me as a man who has a great deal of patience for young children - and indeed, why should he? Most younglings are shrill little brats, though my own children were always quite well behaved. Hm. No. I believe you should observe him some more, and furthermore, it's important that you continue to study pure-blood bloodlines, history, as well as current politics. Perhaps some rudimentaries of wizarding law as well."

Harry scrunched up his face. "That sounds like a lot of work."

"But it will pay off, I assure you. I believe that the best option is to have the elder Malfoy take you on as a protégé. Mentors are usually very invested in their protégés, much like I feel invested in you. However, in order to do that, you must first convince the Malfoy patriarch that you are worthy of being a protégé, and to do that, he must like you, or at least, see something of himself in you. Now, it sounds to me as though the Malfoy heir already tries to mimic his own father, but his own youthful immaturity and lack of discipline hold him back. You need to succeed where the Malfoy heir fails."

"So -" Harry's expression became contemplative, "- I have to be like Uncle Lucius?"

"You don't necessarily have to be like him," Lady Aloli explained. "But the more brightly you shine as a pure-blood paragon, the better. People will have high expectations of you as the young heir of House Black, Harry. Be sure to meet or even exceed those expectations."

Though Lady Aloli's words were daunting, Harry nodded. So far, the lady had never led him astray with her advice, and Harry trusted her enough to continue listening to her. But when it came to learning more about history, blood status, law and politics, Harry knew he couldn't do it on his own. In the end, he turned to the tutor, Mr Praos for help.

"I am so very pleased that you and Miss Black have shown so much interest in what I have to teach you," Mr Praos gushed, when Harry began asking more questions about the topics that Lady Aloli recommended. Of course, Harry asked his questions once their lessons were over, since Draco would have made fun of him for 'trying so hard.'

"These subjects are all so fascinating, and I've always wondered why more witches and wizards don't seem to see it," Mr Praos continued. "Who wouldn't want to know about our exalted ancestors and our rich history? Or to know which families are connected and which are feuding? As an observer, it can be very interesting to watch the balance of power as it shifts over time. Naturally, I'd be happy to give you a list of reading materials about the bloodlines and local history. Ah - and I can recommend some magazines and newspapers to subscribe to if you have an interest in current events. And of course, I'll do my best to answer any other questions you may have."

Holly, who had remained by Harry's side, simply raised her eyebrows. She couldn't help but notice Harry's newfound interest in a range of topics, but when Harry had tried to explain that he wanted to understand the Malfoys better, Holly had quickly lost interest. Holly seemed to think that she didn't need anyone other than Harry. And while Holly agreed that Aunt Narcissa and Mr Praos were kind people that she liked, she had built an icy barrier around her heart, not wanting to let any of them be truly close to her. For Holly, it was usually enough to impart one of her sweet, pretty smiles, and Aunt Narcissa or Mr Praos would think the best of her. Why would she try and develop closer relationships with more people if it meant a greater likelihood of betrayal?

Harry had worried that learning about all the subjects that Lady Aloli had suggested would be an arduous task, but Mr Praos enthusiasm turned out to be infectious, and Harry soon realized that the tutor was right: learning the histories of the pure-blood families, and seeing their past rises and falls in power was fascinating. Admittedly, learning about wizarding laws was a bit dry, but learning about how different interest groups tried to influence them was interesting. Lady Aloli had also encouraged Harry to try and find out who Lucius Malfoy's associates were, and once Harry knew their names, he soon learned their family histories as well. For Harry, gaining this information was almost like a game of sorts - perhaps a puzzle, in which he was slowly revealing a greater picture, piece by piece.

As Harry continued to learn and to observe the Malfoys over the following weeks (especially since Lady Aloli liked to hear _details_), he noticed that the animosity between Bellatrix and Lucius went both ways. He was used to hearing all the reasons why Bellatrix didn't like Lucius and it took him a while before he realized that Lucius looked at Bellatrix with the same contempt that Bellatrix looked at Lucius. The idea that his uncle didn't like his adopted mama made him uneasy, and he expressed this unease to Lady Aloli during one of their many talks.

"I don't think Uncle Lucius likes my mother," he dolefully told her.

"Hrmph. I'm not surprised," Lady Aloli answered. "From all the tales you've told me, your mother speaks of the Malfoy Patriarch with great contempt, and people don't tend to like those who treat them with contempt. I admit that at first, I was slightly worried that the Malfoy Head might have been a milksop, but fortunately, our dominant bloodlines breed true. Your descriptions of him suggest that he is a strong and admirable Malfoy. I'm just surprised that it took you so long to see it - but - ah - I suppose that a son's love for his mother is blind. You're a good boy, Harry."

Harry felt his face warm up from the stern lady's praise, but his feelings remained conflicted. "But - why do they have to be so mean to one another?"

Lady Aloli tilted her head in thought. "If I had to venture a guess, I would say it is the result of rivalry. Two powerful people from two powerful families - what other option would there be than to either respect each other, or hate each other? Jealousy. I would say that jealousy lies in their hearts."

Harry knits his brows. "I can't imagine mama being jealous of Uncle Lucius - she's always talking about everything that she thinks is wrong with him."

The lady answered with a knowing smile. "Ah - but what you've failed to recognize is how strong the bond between sisters can be. Have you ever considered that perhaps, the Lady Black is jealous of the man who has taken away her sister's love and affection?"

"You think -" Harry pursed his lips, "- You think my mother is jealous because Uncle Lucius married Aunt Narcissa?"

Lady Aloli lightly (and rather elegantly) shrugged. "I am only speculating, Harry. But it is possible. But that isn't what's important. What _is_ important is that if you mean to earn the approbation of the Malfoy Head, then you must act with care. You cannot be seen to be taking sides - or at least, you must find a way to convince each of them that you are on their side. Doing this well is no easy task. You have been focusing on your lessons, have you not?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I have."

"Good. I believe you will soon be ready to work your way into your Uncle's good graces."

Harry's expression turned uncertain. "I - I've been learning a lot, but there's still a lot I don't know. Mr Praos says I've hardly scratched the surface of all there is to know."

Lady Aloli made a dismissive gesture with her hands. "That isn't important. What's important is that you are showing an interest. The little that you know only proves that interest. You must bear in mind that you will learn all these things in time. And if the Malfoy Head takes a liking to you and wishes to mentor you, then he shall fill in your ignorance, and will probably like you the more for it!"

"Oh. All right. What should I do then? How do I begin?"

"Well, think back to your interactions with the Lady Malfoy."

Harry gave Lady Aloli a questioning look but quickly complied. Without fully realizing it, a smile of fondness spread across his face. Since his first meeting with Narcissa in the Orangery, Harry met with his Aunt once or twice a week. He enjoyed every exchange he ever had with her, and the more time he spent with her, the more his affection grew. And it was evident that Narcissa felt the same way. She seemed to adore her 'attentive and charming' nephew, who was almost as fascinated by her plants as she was.

"How do you usually interact?" Lady Aloli asked, breaking Harry out of his musings.

"Well, I ask her a lot of questions - about her plants, and about her life."

Lady Aloli nodded. "Exactly. You show an interest in her. But not a general sort of interest - a specific interest that suggests that you know her well, and you care about the same thing she cares about. What you need to do with the Malfoy Head is something similar - however, with more dignity."

"What do you mean?" Harry queried, puzzled.

"I mean that while the Lady Malfoy may be charmed by your sweet childishness, the Malfoy Head will likely see your young age as a fault."

"Oh." Harry frowned, feeling somewhat downcast.

"This is not a big problem," Lady Aloli reassured him. "Since we've begun our regular discourse, I notice that your bearing has improved greatly. But you are an energetic young boy. What you need to do is to learn to hide that energy. Too much energy, and you will forever seem a child - there's nothing worse than trying to talk to someone who won't stop looking at everything in the room, and fiddling with their hands and feet. The image of dignity can be found in the act of stillness. Sitting or standing still. Moving with deliberateness. These sorts of things. Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. The other thing is asking the right questions. You need to gain the Malfoy patriarch's attention. And to do that, the element of surprise is best. Next time you see him by his office with his associates, ask an intelligent question - one that shows you have an understanding of the world around you. It will surely intrigue him."

"What would be the right sort of questions?"

Lady Aloli sighed. "Must I do _all_ your thinking for you?" She shook her head. "Ah - but you're young yet. You haven't the years of experience under your belt that you need to navigate pure-blood society with ease." She began to lists the sorts of questions Harry could ask, filling his head until he felt like it was overstuffed. For a brief moment, Harry wondered how he even got himself into such a situation. He had wanted to leave his chambers because he wanted freedom (and perhaps some adventure), and instead, he was occupied with _learning_. Still, Harry didn't mind it - not when there was a greater prize to be won: influence and power. Having those two things would surely give him the life that he wanted, not just for himself, but for his beloved family.

Harry finally got his chance to speak to his Uncle Lucius a few days later. Lady Aloli had stressed that it was important for Harry to accost his uncle when he was alone, to avoid potential conflicts between Lucius and Bellatrix, and Harry quickly saw the truth of this. For him to try and speak to his uncle while the three of them were in the library would simply be awkward.

Lucius had just finished a meeting with one of his associates which Harry now recognized as a high ranking employee in the Ministry of Magic. It felt a little strange to Harry, to pretend at any sort of accidental encounter, and though Harry did not fear his uncle, he still felt a little nervous. Lady Aloli's final piece of advice had been: "Just be yourself." Of course, that was followed by: "- a proud and noble heir of House Black." With a sigh, Harry wondered if he should just leave and spend a pleasant afternoon with Aunt Narcissa instead. But no - he wanted to understand his uncle better. He wanted to know just why it was that the Malfoys were so powerful and significant in the wizarding world. His recent education in modern history and politics had only enforced that understanding. Even the Blacks, as rich and powerful as they were, didn't have as strong a role in politics as Lucius Malfoy. Of course, the eldest Black male was in Azkaban, which didn't help.

Steeling himself, Harry stepped forward, making it seem like he just so happened to be passing by just as Lucius parted with his associate.

"How do you do, Uncle Lucius," he politely greeted. Some part of him wanted to shuffle his feet or fidget, but Lady Aloli's constant drilling had enforced the habit of remaining still.

Lucius nodded. "Harry."

Harry glanced in the direction that Lucius's associate had left. "Was that Mr Runcorn?" Harry queried, hoping he didn't sound completely fake. "I've read about him in the _Daily Prophet._" The _Daily Prophet_ was one of the more popular wizarding newspapers that Mr Praos had recommended.

Lucius's pale eyebrows arched in surprise. "You read the _Daily Prophet_?"

Harry nodded. "I like to know what's happening in the world. Mr Runcorn was the one who proposed that recent bill to assess risky muggleborns, wasn't he?"

Lucius answered with a nod. "Indeed. Though with modern sentiments towards mudbloods and their ilk, it's unlikely to be passed."

Harry was unsure of how to answer that. Instead, he said: "Why were you meeting with him?" Silently, he kicked himself, but managed not to wince. Lady Aloli had said to act calmly and grace and decorum, and here he was blurting out the first question that came to mind.

"I don't mean to be presumptuous," Harry quickly added. "I was just - simply - curious." This wasn't going as well as he hoped. Somehow, Harry stood his ground.

But instead of being offended, Lucius had an amused look in his eye, and the tiniest upturn of his lips. "I am accustomed to the insatiable curiosity of children. My own son has no end of questions, though thankfully, he has since learned to refrain himself."

Harry wasn't sure if what Lucius was saying was a good thing or bad thing. Was he suggesting that Harry was being childish?

"Since you are -" Lucius paused, "- family, I suppose there's no harm in answering your question. Runcorn wished to know if he had my support for his bill. Naturally, I told him he did. Mudbloods and muggles present a grave danger to wizarding society, and that danger must be stemmed."

Harry nodded. "I suppose that families like the Weasleys or Diggles would be opposed."

Lucius's expression became disdainful. "Blood-traitors, the lot of them. They're fools. I suppose their unfortunate poverty leads them to side with the rabble."

Harry tilted his head in thought. "It sounds like they don't see the bigger picture."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "How insightful of you. You're - not quite what I expected. It is good to see the young so engaged in their education."

"Thank you, Uncle Lucius," Harry responded. The conversation ended soon after, and Harry wasn't sure whether it went well or not. But when he recounted the event to Lady Aloli, she seemed pleased with Harry.

"You've done very well," she praised. "If it went as you said, then I'm sure you've piqued his interest. There's no need to rush things. But be sure to continue your education, and try to show what you've learned in his presence. Subtly of course. It's a matter of time before you've won him over."

Harry nodded, but he didn't feel Lady Aloli's confidence. Speaking to Uncle Lucius was nothing like speaking to his Aunt Narcissa. Nonetheless, he was determined to continue under Lady Aloli's guidance and see where it would take him.

-o-

Having spoken to his Uncle Lucius, Harry longed to act once again. He was still too young to be able to appreciate the full merits of patience, but Lady Aloli stilled his hand.

"I understand you want to _do_ something, Harry," the lady empathized, "however, sometimes it is better to wait. You have spent much of your childhood here at the manor without speaking to the Malfoy Head. It would probably seem strange to suddenly start bombarding the man with questions. These encounters must seem natural."

Harry sighed. "It feels _fake_. Well, when I talk to Uncle Lucius, it doesn't feel _that_ fake because politics and history is more interesting than I thought. But all the other stuff feels fake."

The Lady gave him and understanding look. "Many things feel unnatural or fake, but the more you do them, the more natural it will be. In the meantime, continue your education. And perhaps we can work on a plan to earn you back the support and affection of the young Malfoy heir."

Harry's expression brightened. "Do you have an idea for how I can be friends with Draco again?"

"Perhaps. You have certainly told me enough about him that I have a good picture of his nature."

"What should I do?" Harry questioned beseechingly. "I know that one of his favourite things to do is to fly on his broom, but I don't even have a broom of my own."

Lady Aloli's smile became indulgent. "Oh Harry, you sweet boy. You are so very unspoiled. It's one of the most endearing things about you. Haven't you considered that if you don't have a broom, that you should perhaps ask your mother for one?"

Harry's eyes widened. He had never really considered asking for what he wanted. When he and Holly had lived with their muggle relatives, they had been conditioned to never ask for anything. And while Bellatrix was generous with her galleons, usually, anything that was given to the twins was at her behest. Even at Tysbastval, where the twins had purchased a veritable mountain of treats, it had been Bellatrix who had first declared: "Buy anything you want, my babies."

There was an amused sparkle in Lady Aloli's eyes. "Think of this as important life lesson. Never be afraid to ask for what you want. And if anyone tries to bar your way, find your own path. You're a Black. You deserve to have the world laid before you on a silver platter."

Harry's lips twisted. The idea was just so contrary to how he had been conditioned. The idea of asking for anything just reminded him of being shouted at by an ominous fat man or a shrill skinny lady. And while he didn't fear asking Bellatrix for anything, he was also aware of how busy his adopted mother was. When it came to meeting the twins needs, her usual method was to either be excessively indulgent, to demand a house-elf to take care of them, or to believe the twins were capable of taking care of themselves.

"Have you never asked your mother for anything?" Lady Aloli asked, perplexed.

"I - well - usually, mama just _knows_. That or she thinks Holly and I can take care of ourselves. She's always telling me that she's so proud of my independence. And I don't want to disappoint her."

Lady Aloli pursed her lips. "While I agree that independence is a strength, you're still just a child." She sighed and shook her head. "How did you turn out this way? Well, nevermind that. The first thing you need to do is get a broom of your own."

Harry nodded. Though he now spoke to Lady Aloli regularly, the truth was that he had never brought up his history. The Lady had just assumed that Harry and Holly were Bellatrix's natural children. And why wouldn't she? After all, with the blood ritual, the twins now bore a resemblance to their adopted mother. There was no real reason that Harry had never told Lady Aloli his past. It had simply never come up. But it didn't seem important now. What was important was getting a broom of his own. As Harry left the corridor and headed down the stairs to the library, the idea filled him with a sense of excitement. To think! A broom of his own! Would Holly want a broom as well?

The idea that Holly might be interested in flying filled him with hope. Maybe, if she had her own broom, she would want to spend more time with him. Maybe it would encourage Holly to venture out more. The thought stilled his footsteps. Should he ask his sister first? But what if Bellatrix said no? Of course, Harry couldn't imagine his adopted mother actually refusing him, but Harry knew that he could be wrong. He decided that to be safe, he would head to the library and ask Bellatrix first. Besides, it was a day of the week when his Uncle Lucius was usually busy in his office. Harry would have his adopted mother all to himself.

As Harry entered through the large double doors of the library, he was relieved to see that Bellatrix was indeed alone. She looked up from her notes when she heard Harry enter, and gave him a welcoming smile.

"Harry, my sweet dear!" she greeted.

Harry smiled warmly, and gave Bellatrix a hug. "Hello mama." He always reverted back to calling her 'mama' when they were alone. It was only around the Malfoys that he used the more formal sounding 'mother.'

"Have you come to help me today?" Bellatrix looked down at the piles of books and parchment. "I'm afraid there isn't much you can do today. The component of the ritual I'm researching is quite complex. But I might be able to find something for you."

"Actually -" Harry bit down on his lower lip, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "I came to ask you something."

Bellatrix raised her dark eyebrows. "Oh? What is it?"

"Erm -" Harry winced and silently kicked himself. Lady Aloli was always correcting him whenever he said 'erm' or 'er,' and now it embarrassed him whenever he made a slip. He felt his face heat up. "Well, I wanted to have my own broom."

"Your own -" Bellatrix trailed off, and a calculating look entered her eyes, though Harry couldn't tell what it meant. It only increased his sense of nervousness.

A slow smile spread across Bellatrix's face. "Your own broom. Yes. Your own broom," she quietly mused. "Old Lucy used to be _so_ proud of his flying abilities back in our school days, with that smug look of his whenever the team won, as though he thought it was all due to _his_ efforts." Her volume increased, and her eyes were bright with a slight manic edge. "Yes, Harry, my sweet. I believe you need to have your own broom. And not just any broom. The _best_ broom that galleons can buy. Because you're going to be _the best_ flyer. I just _know_ it! You always were so very agile and quick. Why - remember all the hunting you used to do?"

Harry gave his Bellatrix an uncertain look. "Yes? But -" he paused, "- Holly. Can she have one too?"

"Of course, of course," Bellatrix answered with a wave her her hand. "I'll get one of the house-elves to owl an order. It must be _the best_."

Harry beamed happily. "Thank you mama!"

Bellatrix blinked, and the manic brightness seemed to fade from her eyes. An affectionate smile took its place. "Of course, my baby. Anything for you." Bellatrix and Harry shared another hug.

"What did you want me to help you with?" Harry asked once they pulled away.

"Ah - you still wished to help? What would I do without you?" Bellatrix turned towards the heap of books and pulled out a thick tome near the middle of the pile.

"Can you search through these lists and make note of any ingredients that have a negative interaction with ancestral bones?" she questioned.

Harry took the heavy tome from her hands and nodded. Though a part of him longed to return to his rooms and tell Holly the good news, he was still happy to help Bellatrix with whatever she needed.

It was a few hours before Harry finally finished and by then it was supper. At their evening meal with the family, Harry could tell that Holly knew that he had news. Even if it wasn't evident from his expression, Holly would have felt his excitement through the twin's link. But Holly was usually reserved anytime she was in the presence of so many people, and Harry knew it would be better to share information when they were alone.

Supper at Malfoy manor always felt like a stately affair. The family never took informal meals in the kitchen, but instead, sat at their immense, rectangular dining table, with its shimmering epergne, and their most expensive tableware which magically kept food at the optimal temperature. If Lucius had news for the family, he usually shared it, but typically, Bellatrix and Narcissa carried the conversation. Harry didn't mind the suppers. It helped that the food was always incredibly delicious. But what made him uncomfortable was feeling Holly's discomfort. If it were up to his sister, he knew that she would have preferred to take her meals alone in their chambers.

When they finished eating, the twins excused themselves, and Harry couldn't even wait until they were back in their rooms to share his news.

"Mama agreed to order us new brooms!" he announced as they turned the corner that lead to their wing of the manor.

Holly knit her brows. "Why? Is that what had you so worked up?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I asked her for new brooms and she agreed. One for you and one for me." He grinned happily.

"I - I'm happy for your Harry. I remember before we left how much you liked to fly. But -" she paused, "- I don't need a broom for myself."

Harry frowned. "Well - why don't you give it a chance? You didn't fly much before because Draco didn't share his brooms that much - but now that you have your own, I'm _sure_ that you'll like it."

Holly shrugged. "I'd rather read. Or work on my drawings."

"But flying is _fun_!" Harry insisted. "Can't you just - give it another chance? Please?"

Holly sighed. "I - I suppose. But I'm sure that I won't enjoy it."

It was enough for Harry that his sister had relented. He took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze, and Holly gave him a weak smile in return.

It took several days before the twin's brooms arrived by owl post. It would have been sooner, but Bellatrix ended up demanding custom changes to the brooms, which took extra time to make. In that period of time, Harry had yet another exchange with his Uncle Lucius, which lead to an even longer conversation than the first one. Harry learned firsthand just what Lady Aloli had claimed: as long as he asked 'intelligent' questions, and kept himself still and attentive (which was easy enough since politics now interested him), his Uncle Lucius was more than willing to speak to him. And Harry found that Lucius was a _very_ opinionated man. Especially when it came to protecting pure-blood interests.

After their conversation, Lucius had even declared: "Youth, like yourself, are the very reason why I _know_ the old ways are superior. After all, what mudblood or blood-traitor would show such interest in these matters? You give me much hope for the future of pure-bloods, Harry. You do the Black name proud."

When Harry told Lady Aloli what his Uncle Lucius had said, the lady had actually clapped her hands with glee. It was a startling difference from her usual stern demeanour.

"I'm just so proud of you," the lady told him, echoing his Uncle Lucius's words. "I _knew_ I was right about you! You're just like my Terence. All you need to do is to continue what you're doing. And after some time, you can start suggesting that you would like a source that can help you learn more about the political world, at which point, the Malfoy Head can step in as your mentor."

Harry thinned his lips. "Can't I just ask Uncle Lucius now? I mean, I _do_ want to learn more about the political world."

Lady Aloli gave a slight shake of her head. "Oh no. No, no. You must continue learning with your tutor, and through your books first. You're a quick study, but leap ahead now would be laziness. It is too soon."

Harry frowned and gave Lady Aloli a stubborn look. "When is this going to stop feeling so fake?"

"When you're older."

It was a completely unsatisfactory answer, and Harry's thoughts were clear on his face.

Lady Aloli huffed. "Youth these days just don't respect their elders. What I mean is that as you continue what you're doing, you'll learn the intricacies of pure-blood interactions. While we could go about things haphazardly, as you seem to wish to do, it will not get you the results you desire. But seeing as I am not your guardian, I can't stop you from doing what you wish to do. Would you prefer to do things your way?"

Harry's expression became uncertain. "I don't know. Probably not." Harry sighed. "I apologize, Lady Aloli. I suppose I'm just -" he trailed off.

Lady Aloli gave him and understanding smile. "Ah yes, young and impatient. It has been a very, very long time since I was young myself. It can be easy to forget how slowly time can pass when one has lived so few years. No matter. We'll set aside the issue of the Malfoy patriarch for now. Tell me Harry, have you thought of ways that you might earn the goodwill of the young Malfoy heir?"

"I was hoping that you could help me with that."

"The one that best knows the mind of a young boy would be another young boy," the lady told him. "But I will endeavour to help."

Harry nodded. He began to tell the lady some of his tentative ideas. Most of them involved possible death-defying tricks to try on the new broom that he was still waiting for. But Lady Aloli warned him that it was best not to one-up Draco, especially if it might wound Draco's pride.

"Can you not think of anything that might put you two on the same side?" she questioned.

Harry hummed, searching his mind. "I don't know - he already sees us as - something bad -" Harry's lips turned downwards unhappily.

"Tell me, do you know of any of the Malfoy heir's dislikes?"

Harry tilted his head. "Well - he doesn't seem to like Mr Praos - our tutor. But our tutor is really nice! He doesn't much care for vegetables, but who actually likes vegetables? He gets annoyed if Gregory or Vincent - those are his friends - don't obey him immediately. Oh! I know! He hates the peacocks! The albino peacocks that Uncle Lucius keeps. He tries to hide it around his father, but I've heard him talking about it." Harry's eyes lit up. "I should do something to the peacocks! But - hm - if I do, Uncle Lucius would never forgive me. Unless -"

"Do tell, Harry."

Harry nodded and shared his idea with Lady Aloli. Her expression became thoughtful but then she nodded. "You know, that might just work. It's reckless and rather daring - just the sort of thing that appeals to young boys, though Merlin only knows why. I can only hope that you grow out of it soon. But you'll have to act with care. If the Malfoy Head were to discover your rash actions, it could undo the progress you have made."

Harry agreed. As he considered his plan for winning over Draco, he was filled with a sense of anticipation. Of course, he needed to find out whether he still felt just as comfortable on a broom as he had before he left. But from what he remembered, flying felt nearly as natural as breathing. He was just as excited about having a new broom as he was about potentially re-befriending Draco.

When Harry and Holly's brooms finally arrived by owl post, thoughts of influence and power immediately flew out of Harry's head and the only thing he wanted to do was to fly. Bellatrix had ordered the twins custom-made Nimbus 1700s, which were the latest, top-of-the-line racing brooms. Since neither Harry nor Holly were full grown, the brooms were of a smaller size, but they weren't training brooms with added safety features. The last thing someone like Bellatrix would worry about would be safety. No, the Nimbus 1700s were full-fledged racing brooms.

Harry managed to convince Holly to try out the brooms with him, and he was so thrilled with his new gift that he barely even paid heed to Draco or Narcissa's reactions. Draco had, of course, been incredibly jealous that the twins had 'real' brooms while he was still stuck with a training broom. On the other hand, Narcissa was furious with her sister. Narcissa was convinced that Bellatrix's actions were reckless, and would "surely endanger the children." But nothing that Narcissa said could convince Bellatrix that her choice had been a mistake.

In the first week after receiving his broom, Harry could barely think of anything else but flying. He was distracted during his lessons with Mr Praos and asked fewer questions. He skipped out on helping Bellatrix in the library, as well as meeting Narcissa in her orangery. Fortunately, the adults had been understanding. After all, a new broom was an exciting matter. While Holly was willing to try flying with Harry for a couple of days, she did not have the same natural aptitude that Harry had. To Harry's disappointment, she quickly lost interest and returned to the twin's chamber where she could read or draw in peace.

But as Harry grew accustomed to playing on his Nimbus 1700, it started to lose its novelty, especially since Holly no longer joined him when he went out flying. However, Harry did notice one interesting development: when he went out to fly, often, he would see Draco flying at the same time as well.

Of course, Draco never joined him to fly together, or did anything other than give Harry dark looks (since in the end, Narcissa had put her foot down and refused to let Draco have his own racing broom.) Harry knew that if he wanted any sort of interaction with Draco, he would have to be the one who initiated it.

A bit over a week and a half since Harry received his broom, he saw Draco flying at the same time as he was, and instead of simply covertly watching him, Harry decided to fly over towards him instead. When Draco noticed, he gave Harry a suspicious glare.

"Hello Draco," Harry greeted.

Draco frowned. "Hello."

"I bet you know a lot of tricks and moves."

Draco puffed up with pride, but his expression remained hostile. "I do. And I could probably do even more moves if I had a racing broom."

Harry tilted his head. "Hm. Do you want to try mine?"

Draco gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you want to, you can use my broom. Or -" Harry's expression brightened, "what about if you used Holly broom? She never wants to come out and fly. I know she wouldn't mind."

Draco's expression was a mix of hopeful and torn. "Really?"

Harry nodded eagerly, feeling like his idea was an utterly brilliant one. "Yeah! Well, as long as you don't tell your mother. She'd hate me forever if she knew."

"I wouldn't tell my mother something like this!" Draco proclaimed. "She even told me I wasn't supposed to use your brooms." Draco's expression became sly. "But what she doesn't know won't hurt her. Would you really let me use your broom?"

"Yeah. Really." Harry smiled mischievously.

Any hostility or suspicion seemed to vanish from Draco's face. "Let's go get the broom then. You keep it in the broom shed, right?"

Harry nodded. The change in Draco was like a switch. One moment, the blond saw the twins as rivals and adversaries. But now, knowing that he'd be able to ride a racing broom, Draco acted like Harry was an old friend. But Harry didn't mind. He knew what Draco was like, and preferred having Draco as a friend. Besides, just as Lady Aloli had said, Draco was a good connection to have, and while Harry still didn't fully understand _why_ 'good connections' were so important, he still knew that it was important.

The boys fetched Holly's broom from the broom shed, and before the shed doors were even shut, Draco had already mounted the broom and was up in the air.

"Merlin!" he breathlessly exhaled. "This. Is. Incredible! It's _soo_ fast! Wooo!"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, the Nimbus 1700s are amazing, aren't they. Let's fly somewhere where the adults won't see us."

"Oh." Draco nodded. "Yeah. Good idea. I can't believe how much better these brooms are! It's so unfair that my parents won't buy me one!"

"Well, since Holly doesn't seem to want to use hers, why don't you keep using it?" Harry suggested.

"It's not the same as having my own -" Draco mused. "But - all right. It's still far, far better than my broom. Come on - let's go! I know some great spots on the grounds to fly where no one will see us. It's where I go to practice dangerous new tricks." And with that, Draco zoomed off, not even questioning the fact that it was Harry who was joining him. After all, someone who let him use a brand new top-of-the-line racing broom couldn't be a bad sort. All thoughts of stubbornly choosing to dislike the twins were immediately forgotten, replaced by the thrill of the dangerously fast broom.

-o-

Once Harry got used to his new broom, he spent a little less time flying, and started to return to helping Bellatrix in the library or Narcissa in the orangery. Of course, he still flew quite a lot, and to his delight, Draco always joined him. However, although Draco was thrilled to have access to a racing broom, the blond still hadn't entirely thawed towards Harry, and he was still rather cold towards Holly. Harry found it a bit mystifying, but then he recalled Lady Aloli's words: to bind Draco's allegiance, he had to show that they were on the same side. And while sharing racing brooms was a good first step, it wasn't enough.

When Harry mentioned his thoughts to Lady Aloli, she quickly agreed.

"It's a relief to hear you finally thinking and talking about something other than your new broom," the lady chided. "You have no idea how little racing brooms interest me."

"Sorry," Harry sheepishly replied.

Lady Aloli gave him a forgiving smile. "You're young, so I suppose it's forgivable. You _have_ been keeping up with your studies though, haven't you?"

Harry's expression became even sheepish. "I will. It's hard to think about anything but flying. Flying is just so amazing!"

The lady sighed. "Yes, yes, so you've said, more than once." She shook her head. "Do not slack off on your studies though. They are far more important than flying could ever be. If all you do is play, then the Malfoy Head will only ever see you as a child."

"I know," Harry sighed. "I'll get back to my studies. I know how important it is."

Lady Aloli gave him a curt nod. "Good. I don't mean to ruin your fun, Harry. By all means, fly and enjoy yourself. But don't lose sight of the bigger picture. I'd hate to see you lose all the progress you've made. Your connection to the Malfoy heir will be of paramount importance in the future, but in the present, it is the Malfoy Head who rules. Never forget that."

"I won't. But Draco told me his father was an amazing flyer in his youth. He even played Quidditch in school."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure." The lady huffed. "Oh, just go on then. Go fly. Get it out of your system. I can see you struggling to remain still."

Harry grinned widely. "I don't think I'll ever get flying out of my system. But don't worry, I won't neglect my studies!" And with that, he dashed off, down the stairs and towards the grounds where he would meet Draco so that they could fly.

As Harry got progressively better at flying, he became ever more daring as well. He and Draco were constantly trying new maneuvers, but Harry was careful to follow Lady Aloli's advice of not one-upping Draco. Fortunately for Harry, this wasn't a big concern; the boys' skills were fairly evenly matched.

But while Harry was optimistic about his changing relationship with Draco, Holly was much more cynical.

"He might be happy that you're sharing the racing broom, but it's not like he's much more friendly during our lessons," Holly pointed out one evening, as the twins got ready for bed. "I mean, now he gives you a nod without scowling, but he still isn't like the old Draco. And he completely ignores me."

Harry frowned. "Well, why don't you come out flying with us? You can share my broom. It's a lot of fun! And Draco is really different when he's flying. He's way more like his old self."

Holly's expression became stubborn. "I don't want to. I don't enjoy it the way that you do."

Harry sighed. "Well - why don't you at least come outside and - and maybe draw something new. I know! You can draw Hamal and Sheratan! Don't you think that'd be fun?"

Holly's expression became uncertain. "I never thought about that before. Maybe I could try. I'll do it if it's just you. But -" she knit her brows, "- I don't feel like drawing if Draco is around. What if - what if he says mean things about my art?"

"Hm. All right. I'll come with you if you want to draw Hamal and Sheratan. It's true that Draco can be kind of oblivious about the effect of his words." Harry thought back to the moments when he and Draco were out flying and the blond asked: "Why is your sister so weird? I've never met someone that has so many uncontrolled incidents of accidental magic. What's wrong with her?" Harry had done his best to defend his sister and to try and explain but Draco simply could not understand. His life experiences had been so different that he couldn't relate to Holly's sensitivity.

Holly gave Harry a relieved smile upon hearing his reassurances.

"But either way, I think your art is amazing. Even if -" Harry trailed off, as he considered the dark subject matter of Holly's drawings.

Holly nodded in understanding. "Yeah," she murmured.

The weeks that followed were some of the busiest in Harry's young life. Especially once he was able to refocus on his studies, and starting gaining an increasing amount of Lucius's attention. Once Lucius started to accept that Harry was particularly insightful and observant, he began to open up about his work and his connections. Before long, Lucius was even introducing Harry to his many associates. Many of them were surprised to learn that Lucius even had a nephew, especially one from a House as prestigious as the Blacks. How could the Blacks have had an heir without all of pure-blood society knowing it? But Lucius brushed off their confusion by explaining that Harry had recently come from the continent. Though what he was implying was false, it had the benefit of being technically true.

It was interesting for Harry to note the behaviour of Lucius's acquaintances. His tutelage under Lady Aloli had made him a skilled observer, and he always paid close attention to how these people treated Lucius, and how they treated himself. Some, like Runcorn and MacNair who were Ministry employees, simply nodded and then seemed to forget Harry's existence. Other's like Parkinson, Rowle, or Selwyn, who were part of ancient pure-blood families, gave Harry odd looks as though he were a puzzle to be figured out, but they were also very respectful and inclusive towards him. Then there were other associates of Lucius that were even harder to categorize; people like Snape, who was a professor at the top magical school in Britain. The professor often left Harry feeling unsettled, and Harry had the impression that a man like the dour, lanky-haired Snape saw far more than Harry could ever hope to. There were even moments when Harry felt like his thoughts wouldn't be safe around such a man. Fortunately, Harry did not see him too often.

It was a grey and rainy day, typical of late winter, and Harry was sitting in Lucius's study, where he seemed to find himself more and more often. The room was a reflection of Lucius's personality: an opulent rug underfoot that depicted the battle and victory of a pale, gleaming dragon, a large oak desk that had probably been in the family for generations, leather furniture from some sort of rare and magical beast, and earthy, masculine colours.

One of Lucius's associates, Barrett Selwyn, had just left, and Lucius appeared to be deep in thought, his hands steepled, with elbows resting on his desk, and his eyebrows knit.

"What do you think of Selwyn, Harry?" Lucius questioned. "Do you think he made a wise investment by purchasing the acromantula silk company?"

Harry thinned his lips as he thought. "I don't know if he made a wise investment or not, but he seems like the sort of person who is hungry for, well, more."

Lucius arched his pale brows. "Oh? What do you mean?"

"Well, there's a look in his eyes when he comes to visit. I noticed it last time he came as well. I can only describe it as a look of _wanting_," Harry explained. "I've read about the Selwyns, and even though they are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, their wealth has never been more than middling. At least not in recent times. I also noticed something else. His robes look like they're the highest quality, but his dragonhide boots are scuffed and worn. I wonder if he chooses expensive robes in hopes of appearing more impressive." The Sacred Twenty-Eight that Harry referred to happened to be the British families that had the exalted status of being considered truly pure-blood.

A slow smile crossed Lucius's face. "Very impressive, Harry. This is why I appreciate your company. You seem to notice things that others are blind to. I confess that I did not even see his boots. You've given me much to think about. Selwyn has always tried to sell the merits of buying shares in some investment or other, or has attempted to glean information about my own commercial interests. Theirs is a good name, but I see no reason to let my own financial affairs become muddled with his."

Harry nodded. "I can see what he would have to gain, but I'm not certain of what you would be able to gain, Uncle Lucius."

"Precisely," Lucius agreed. Lucius leaned back in his chair, and the pair of them fell into a brief silence.

"Do you ever speak of such things to Draco?" Lucius suddenly asked.

Harry creased his brows. "Draco? No, not really. We mostly just fly, and it's difficult to carry a conversation whilst flying. But -"

"But?"

Harry glanced up at his Uncle Lucius, wondering how best to express his thoughts. "Well, in many ways, it's clear that Draco tries to be like you. He often mimics your mannerisms and intonation, you know. He looks up to you. And -" Harry faltered, feeling suddenly shy, "- so do I." He felt his face heating up, but Harry knew the words were true. Getting closer to his uncle may have started as a personal experiment of sorts, but he genuinely admired what Lucius did. His uncle was both intelligent and powerful, and had clearly worked hard to strengthen the already-powerful Malfoy name and wealth.

Tentatively, Harry returned his gaze towards his uncle, hoping he hadn't created an awkward situation by revealing his emotions. But it was clear from the expression on Lucius's face that the older man was pleased.

"You're truly not what I expected, Harry," Lucius confessed. "I am - pleased to have you as a nephew." He paused. "I have been thinking - since you lack a strong male presence in your life, I would be willing to take you under my wing. Someone with a mind as sharp as your own would benefit from proper guidance, such as that which I can provide you."

It took all of Harry's efforts not to break into a goofy grin, but he felt buoyant with happiness. Lady Aloli often spoke of the merits of having strong connections and multiple alliances, but she hadn't ever described how _good_ it felt to be liked, and to like other people in return. And to Harry, the Malfoys were such wonderful people, even if they were wonderful in completely different ways, from the gentle kindness of Narcissa, to the regal pride of Lucius, and the mischievousness of Draco.

"I'm honoured," Harry replied. "I shall strive to do my best, Uncle Lucius."

Lucius nodded. "I would expect nothing less. I'm sure my wife would be pleased as well. She sings your praises, and I have always found her to be an excellent judge of character."

Since it was clear that Lucius did not care to discuss emotions, the topic soon changed to other matters, but the feeling of lightness remained in Harry's heart. However, Harry did not let his own happiness distract him, and he remained attentive through their meeting. Lucius had made it clear that the type of information he was sharing with Harry was not the sort of thing he would impart to outsiders. It was an act of trust that Harry deeply appreciated, even though he knew that being a family member accounted for a large portion of that trust.

But as the late afternoon progressed into evening, Harry became aware that something was affecting Holly through their link. It didn't seem like anything unusually negative that would cause him to run back to the twin's room, but he knew that when he returned to his chambers, Holly would have news to share, whether it was something intriguing she had read in one of her books, or a new drawing she had created.

Curious to know what had changed, Harry quickly rushed past Lady Aloli's portrait, calling out: "Good evening, Lady Aloli, I've got news to share with you tomorrow!" before opening the door to the twin's chambers. Holly, who now had a real desk that a house-elf had magicked into the room, looked up towards him.

"You first," he said, and Holly nodded, understanding that he wanted to hear what happened to her first before sharing his own news.

"I discovered something new - with my art." Her eyes drifted down to the parchments on the table before looking up at Harry, but now her expression was troubled.

Harry knit his brows, mystified by the unsettled darkness he now sensed through their link. "Can I see?" He moved closer towards Holly's desk, but she hunched over her drawings so that he couldn't see them.

Holly bit down her her lower lip. "I don't know. I mean, it's really interesting and neat but -" she looked back at her drawings. "But I don't want you to be hurt."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, perplexed by his sister's cryptic words.

"I was - using a bit more magic than usual while drawing. I suppose I got a little carried away. But now, my drawings do more than just move -" she trailed off.

"What do they do?"

"Well -" Holly paused, "I think my drawings can make you feel things. Or at least feel the things that I've felt."

Harry hummed. "I'd like to see."

"What if - what if it hurts you?"

"I'd be all right with that. They're your drawings, Holly. I trust you," He reassured her.

Holly gave him one final doubtful look, before picking up the unfinished drawing that she was working on and handing it to him.

Before he even fully processed what he was looking at, a sick feeling began to build in his gut. His palms were damp with sweat, and his breathing had become shallow, but since he had asked, he forced himself to look down at Holly's drawing. It depicted the leering face of Gris Malmangeur, surrounded by a hazy background of sickly greyish-green. The creature's features were even more exaggerated and grotesque, yet the image still managed to capture Gris's likeness. But it wasn't the gargoyle-like creature which was the most striking about the picture; it was the horrible sense of helplessness and dread Harry felt. Gris's eyes seemed to shine with a ravenous desire for pain and misery. As he looked at the picture, Harry's internal alarm bells were screaming, and much more forcefully than he meant to, he thrust the drawing back to Holly, averting his eyes so he didn't have to see it. The horrible feelings quickly passed, and were replaced by shame.

"I'm sorry," Harry guiltily apologized. "I - I didn't realize - I wasn't prepared -"

"I know," Holly kindly reassured him, as she set the drawing back on the desk.

Harry frowned. "But - why didn't I feel this through our link? Doesn't creating stuff like this, well, upset you?"

Holly shook her head. "I don't know why, but it's kind of -" she paused as she searched for the right words, "- a relief. I still have all these feelings inside - and sometimes, it just feels like there's nowhere for all the feelings to go. And I _hate_ how Draco still gives me smug looks whenever I accidentally make something explode or set something on fire. It makes me feel guilty too, since Mr Praos is so nice about it. It's not like I mean for those kinds of things to happen." Her gaze became distant. "I hated it in Durmstrang, but at least while we were there, we could cast spells at anyone who tried to hurt us. Here in the manor - I just feel like I have to hold everything back. And it's hard. So hard. So being able to put my feelings into paper -" she glanced back down at the image of Gris.

Harry nodded. "I think I understand. I - I'm glad that you discovered art." He gave his sister a sideways hug. "But if you ever need to talk, just - tell me - or use or link." He pulled away. "You're never alone as long as you have me."

Holly gave him a wobbly smile. "I know. And I'm glad. But my art - it's a part of me now. I - I don't know why but I feel like it's important for me to keep doing it."

Harry wasn't entirely sure what his sister meant, but through their link, he could tell that it mattered a great deal. But perhaps it was a good thing. Perhaps it would help to heal the wounds on her psyche, and help her to move on. And if Holly could move on from the pain of the past, then it would surely bring their family closer together in the end.

-o-

Winter soon became spring, which brought with it more rain, but also a feeling of newness and optimism. In the garden, many of Narcissa's bulbs, vines and shrubs had already begun to bloom, resulting in a wonderland of new colours and fragrances. And in their lessons, the twins made rapid progress, so that they were no longer behind Draco in any of their subjects. In many ways, life was changing for the better. Harry seemed to have his Uncle Lucius's complete trust, and Draco had finally accepted Harry as a friend. Though Harry knew that he could possibly strengthen his friendship with Draco with a daring act, the riskiness of his plan continued to hold him back, causing him to procrastinate until it was almost forgotten. Even Lady Aloli had conceded that Harry had done well, simply through the act of sharing the racing broom. It wasn't that Harry was afraid of doing something dangerous - it was just that his situation, as it was, was already pretty good, and Harry had let himself become complaisant.

As for Holly, though she had been reticent, Harry was able to gently reassure and encourage her, and before long, she was even spending some of her afternoons in the orangery or in Narcissa's gardens, drawing flowers while Harry helped his aunt with her plants. Their Aunt Narcissa had treated Holly just as warmly as she treated Harry, and she never made Holly feel obligated to converse. Narcissa also never pressured Holly to share her art (though Harry could tell that she was curious), but even so, Holly was disinclined to volunteer. Some part of Holly, which felt hopelessly broken, didn't believe that Aunt Narcissa would understand her art.

It was a bright blue afternoon without even the slightest breeze, and it would have been perfect for flying. It was certainly far too nice of a day to spend in the Malfoy library (no matter now nice the library happened to be.) Besides, Bellatrix was almost finished her research for restoring the Dark Lord's body. Over the months of working with her, Harry had learned that neither Bellatrix nor Lucius had been able to find a complete ritual that could restore someone's body; instead, they had to slowly, and carefully use research to craft the ritual that they needed from scratch. It was the reason why the research was taking so long. And although Bellatrix wasn't the sort of person who excelled at meticulous ritual crafting, she was willing to make the effort for her beloved Dark Lord.

Rather than flying, Harry had decided to spend the day with his sister, out in one of the meadows where Hamal and Sheratan could roam free. Holly had brought her art supplies, using a floating wooden board as an easel, and she appeared to be deeply engrossed in her art. As for Harry, he was lying on his back, his hands behind his head, lazily watching the clouds, and listening to the sweet warbling of birds. Considering how hectic his life could be, the moment of leisure and relaxation was welcome.

Occasionally the hitzetiers would amble over, looking for scratches, before wandering off to munch on the various wildflowers that grew in wild profusion throughout the meadow. Harry felt his eyelids slowly drifting closed as he gave himself over to the feeling of deep contentment and serenity. His life was so close to being perfect. He felt a calm dreaminess that hinted that sleep was just around the corner, when a sudden feeling in the twin's link caused his eyes to fly open and he abruptly sat up, his heart racing. Harry felt a sharp pain in his scar - a sensation that he rarely experienced outside of Holly's nightmares.

"What is it?" Harry asked, slightly breathlessly, as he scanned the horizon. He followed Holly's gaze, and saw an ominous figure in all-black coming closer towards them, robes billowing like that of a vulture. Holly had already pulled out her wand, gripping it so tightly that her hand was shaking and her knuckles were white, but the look in her bright green eyes promised harm. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his wand as well, ready to take on the danger. The twins were careful to never let the adults see them carrying their wands, but since they needed it to strengthen their link, they continued the habit of carrying their wands at all times.

The twins stood up, and Harry moved forwards, acting like a barrier between the stranger and Holly, but as the person came closer, Harry recognized the pale scowling face of the black-haired man. He reached a hand towards his sister, touching her lightly and sending out a soothing calmness through their link.

"It's all right," he murmured. "I know him." The pain in his scar slowly faded, but he could still feel Holly's anxiety and guardedness, giving their shared magic a prickly feel. The twins both pocketed their wands, but kept their hands wrapped around the handles as a precaution. They remained close to one another, feeling stronger together rather than apart.

The ominous figure came closer until he was a meter away from them, looking down on the twins from his beaked nose. It gave Harry a chill down his spine.

Harry gave the man a respectful nod. "Mr Snape. How do you do?"

The man nodded in reply. "Mr Black." His eyes shifted towards Holly, and as the older man registered the likeness between Harry and Holly, the faintest look of surprise came across his normally impassive face, causing his black eyes to widen almost imperceptibly, though the surprise quickly vanished, replaced by Snape's normally unreadable expression.

Remembering his manners, Harry quickly said: "Mr Snape, may I introduce my sister, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Holly Black."

Hearing Holly's name caused yet another look of surprise to cross the man's face, and though Harry did not know why, he suddenly had a very bad feeling. Had he just said something that he shouldn't have? Maybe his manners weren't up to the man's standards? But Harry's sudden nervousness was only amplifying Holly's anxiety, and he forced the feeling away. Surely there was nothing to worry about. After all, Mr Snape wasn't even a pure-blood.

"Miss Black," Mr Snape greeted, with a curt nod.

"May I ask why you're here, sir?" Harry's words drew the dark's man attention back to himself.

"I need some rare magical herbs that do not grow elsewhere in Britain. Lucius has given me leave to collect what I need from his grounds," the man answered coldly. Harry knew that the man was a Potions Master, as well as a Professor, so the explanation did not surprise him.

Harry expected the man to be on his way now that they had said their pleasantries. After all, Snape did not seem to care for children, even though Harry was considered mature for his age. But to his surprise, Snape made another comment.

"Lucius hadn't mentioned that he had a niece."

The question seemed rather abrupt - almost rude, and Harry's uneasiness began to flare up again. He darted a quick glance towards his sister. He could feel the pain once again increasing in his scar, but he managed to stand firm.

"Holly is closer to Aunt Narcissa than Uncle Lucius," Harry told the man.

Snape arched a black brow. "Curious. Narcissa has never mentioned a niece either."

Harry narrowed his eyes. Why was the half-blood being so nosy? Gathering up all his pure-blood hauteur, Harry straightened, and in a chilly voice, he said: "I'm sure she has her reasons. We are, after all, only her nephew and niece, and I know Aunt Narcissa prefers to talk about Draco or her garden."

Snape's nostrils flared, and he looked as if he was ready to berate Harry for his disdainful tone. But Snape managed to collect himself, as he remembered who he was speaking to. Instead, he looked down at Harry with measured regard. Snape's impassive demeanour made Harry want to fidget, but hours of discipline helped Harry to remain still. The man's tone changed, taking on a low, silky quality. "The pair of you share an extraordinarily likeness. I imagine that you are often mistaken as twins."

"We _are_ twins," Harry answered, and there was a strange, almost triumphant look in the man's eyes that caused alarm bells to ring in Harry's mind.

"Oh? Pardon my _ignorance_," Snape smoothly replied. "It's such a remarkable coincidence. I was always under the impression that Blacks were named after constellations. Instead, you share the same names as a pair of rather famous twins. The _Potter_ twins." For some reason, the man uttered 'Potter' in a venomous tone, that bewildered Harry. He felt like they were having two conversations at once, but Harry was unable to understand the subtext of the second conversation. It gave him a horrible feeling of being out of his element - a feeling that Harry hadn't felt in a long time. All he knew was that something was wrong. He wished that he had someone to advise him: Lady Aloli, his mother, his Uncle Lucius - anyone.

"Ah - you seem to have something in your hair, near your forehead," the man gestured at Harry.

Harry furrowed his brows, feeling off-balance from the unexpected tangent. He brushed his hand across his brow, trying to remove whatever was there. It was probably just a blade of grass or stray petals from wildflowers from when he had been lying down.

"Is it gone?" Harry queried uncertainly, now filled with self-consciousness as he looked up at Snape.

The man blinked, as if caught off guard, before flatly saying: "Yes." He paused, and Harry got the impression that Snape was deep in thought about something. "What do you know of the Potter twins?" the man asked, his tone no longer light.

"Only what I've read in history books," Harry lied defensively. But as the man peered into Harry's eyes, Harry had a horrible feeling that the man knew he was lying. Bellatrix had mentioned a few times in passing that the Dark Lord could look into minds, but Harry hadn't considered such dangers - not when he was generally enfolded in the safety of his family. Yet, the penetrating look in the man's eyes told Harry that he didn't stand a chance. Harry forced himself to look away, hot with embarrassment and helplessness.

"Then you must know that Lil- that the twin's mother gave her life to save them," Snape intoned. Neither Harry nor Holly were in the state of mind to notice the slip of Snape's tongue, or the slight hint of emotion that had entered his voice. Neither of them could possibly know that the dour man knew the twin's birth mother, nor the fact that he ordinarily _never_ spoke of her.

"I'm sure it was very brave of her," Harry mulishly answered, still not daring to meet the man's eyes. "But our mother would do the same for us." Harry wasn't entirely certain if that was true, but he wanted to believe in Bellatrix.

"She's _not_ my mother," Holly hissed, catching Harry by surprise. Harry turned to face his sister, his heart now pounding and his eyes wide. How could Holly give away their secret to this man? Didn't she sense the same danger as Harry did? What was she thinking? This situation felt a million times more ominous than the talk that the twin's had had with Professor Sauvasen. Feelings of wild alarm rippled through the twin's link, but Holly's eyes had taken on a hard look.

"Holly, no," Harry frantically whispered, sending danger signals through their link. But Holly paid him no heed, drawing on her own inner strength. Instead, she looked up at Snape's pale face.

"Tell me more about her," Holly said to Snape. "Tell me about the Potter twin's mother."

A brief look of uncertainty suddenly flickered across Snape's face. He looked as though events hadn't gone as he had planned - as though he had expected more resistance, and he hadn't expected the question. Harry had a feeling that Snape was once again making a multitude of calculations within his mind, but that was soon replaced by a look of resolve and Snape nodded.

"What do you wish to know?" Snape queried emotionlessly.

Holly knit her brows. "Why did she give up her life? Why would she leave her children like that?"

The question startled Snape. Though Harry was as curious as Holly, his mistrust of the man overrode his desire to know. All Harry wanted was for Snape to go away. But while Harry knew that he could walk away, there was no way he could leave Holly alone with the man.

"I cannot claim to know what was in her mind during that moment," Snape cautiously replied. "However, I am certain that it was an act of -" he paused, and looked like he was struggling to say the next word, "- love."

Holly's lips twisted downwards. The pain in Harry's scar was now gone, but Harry could feel Holly's confusion through their link. "But, didn't she know what would happen to the twins?" Holly wondered. "If she left them?"

Snape frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Holly clarified, "she may have died for the twins. But didn't she consider that there are things worse than death?"

Holly's words felt like a hard kick in Harry's gut. He lived through Holly's nightmares night after night, and he had seen her dark and twisted drawings, but the reminder of her suffering still pained him and filled him with terrible guilt. Harry wanted to believe things were getting better for them. Weren't things getting better? Harry's focus on Holly meant that he failed to see the expression on Snape's face. The man looked just as stricken as Harry felt. Snape clearly hadn't expected the question.

"What are you talking about," Snape croaked, the silkiness gone. But Snape and Holly seemed to be locked in a staring contest.

"You know. Don't you?" Holly asked. Pain suddenly seared through Harry's scar, and the air crackled with the heavy feeling of magic. Harry could feel Holly draining the twin's shared magic. But what was she doing with it? Surely she wasn't intending to attack Snape. He pressed his palm against the scar, barely able to concentrate past the pain.

"I _knew_ it," Holly spat out. "I can feel it! I've felt something like this before. I've felt the disgusting feeling of the Dark Lord in my mind. I _know_ what it feels like to have someone in my mind. Now you _know._ You _know_ what happened to me."

"My God," Snape groaned, his eyes wide with naked surprise. Neither of the twins registered the muggle expression. "I -" Snape shook his head, causing his greasy, shoulder-length hair to sway. "I trusted that old man. I trusted him to put you in good hands. I thought - I thought you were safe. But I never asked him about you - After all these years, I never asked -"

"Now get out of my head! And explain yourself," Holly growled, radiating power. "Or shall I try to enter your mind the way I felt you enter mine?"

"No!" Snape gasped. "No. You're untried - inexperienced. You would rip my sanity apart."

"Then explain yourself!" Holly ordered furiously, causing another blast of pain through Harry's scar.

"Holly," Harry moaned. "What's going on?"

Holly glanced towards her brother. "I'm getting to the bottom of this, Harry." She turned back to Snape.

"Tell me," Holly demanded of Snape. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," Snape quickly answered. "I'm on your side."

Holly frowned, her expression mistrustful. "How can you be on our side? We've never seen you before."

"Your mother," Snape admitted. "I -" he paused, "I knew her. I vowed to protect you."

"Well, you failed," Holly flatly retorted.

"I -" Snape nodded stiffly. "Yes. In that, I failed. But I am willing to help you now."

Despite the pain in Harry's scar, the words still registered in his mind. "Don't trust him!" Harry warned Holly.

Holly gave Harry a concerned look but quickly returned her attention to Snape. "How can you help us?"

"I - I can get you away from here," Snape answered.

"No!" Harry cried out. The idea of someone taking them away from their family was too much for Harry to bear. Instinctively, he drew on the twin's magic, wresting power away from Holly. The pain in his scar flared up to maddening proportions, but adrenaline gave him the strength to ignore it.

Harry turned to Snape and narrowed his eyes. How _dare_ the man come here and intrude upon their lives. Harry wanted nothing more than for the man to be gone. Preferably somewhere far, far away. Snape's eyes widened, as he sensed the power within Harry. He did not know what to expect. Snape knew power when he was faced with it, but he didn't know _Harry_. Was this moment to be Snape's death? Fortunately for Snape, Harry was no killer.

A boom ripped through the air, louder than the sound of an ordinary apparition, and Snape vanished as Harry's magic overcame the anti-apparition enchantments of the Malfoy manor. Harry didn't care where Snape ended up, as long as it was far away from his home. Unfortunately, the effort had completely spent both the twin's magic. Harry felt blackness creeping at the edges of his consciousness, and felt wetness and pain across his skin from the bleeding tears in his skin created from the wands that Professor Sauvasen described as 'Betrayers.' But in that moment, Harry felt that the wand hadn't betrayed him. It had given him what he wanted, and his last thought before passed out was that his beloved family was safe. For now.

-o-

It was a few days later, when Harry finally awoke. He found himself in the twin's soft, enormous bed, facing the familiar, ornate moldings on the ceiling which depicted an elegant, snake-like dragon that silently roared at Harry when it noticed that he was awake. Holly was sitting next to him, looking down at him with an expression of concern. Harry furrowed his brows. Had something happened? Why was he so tired and sore?

"Harry," Holly murmured with relief. "You're finally awake." She looked away and bit down on her lower lip. "Do you - remember -" she paused and looked back towards him. "Do you remember what happened?"

Harry searched his mind, wincing as his shifting motions causing a prickling discomfort through his back and limbs. "I -" his eyes widened. "Merlin! Mr Snape!" He sat up abruptly, ignoring his aches. "I have to tell Uncle Lucius! Snape can't be trusted!"

"No!" Holly cried out forcefully, grabbing his arm to restrain him.

Harry froze, and looked at his sister, bemused. "What do you mean, No?"

"I mean," Holly ground out, "No. No, we're not going to tell Uncle Lucius. We're not telling him or anyone _anything._"

Harry frowned. "But we _have_ to. Snape _knows_."

"So?" Holly stubbornly replied. "Professor Sauvasen seemed to _know_ something too. But I don't see you running to tell _mama_ about it."

"This is different," Harry insisted. "Snape said he was going to take us away!"

"Yeah? Have you thought that maybe that's what I want?"

Harry's eyes widened. "How can you say that?!"

"Because it's true!" Holly cried. "I want to be away from here! I _hate_ it!"

"But what about Aunt Narcissa? Or Mr Praos? I thought you liked them?"

A Holly jutted her chin forward stubbornly. "I hate mama more than I like them."

Holly's words felt like a blade through his heart, and Harry shook his head. "No," he weakly replied. "How could you say that? Can't you see that she didn't want for all those things to happen to you? It was - it was that gargoyle -"

"I hate them all," Holly hissed. "You say that mama didn't want to _torture_ me. But she did. And I will _never_ forgive her. Never." Her expression became hurt. "I told you this before. Why won't you _listen_?"

"I -" Harry was at a loss for words, and his shoulders slumped. "I just want everyone to be happy. I want _you_ to be happy."

Holly's expression was torn. "I don't know if I can be happy here. But -" she pursed her lips. "Please. _Please _don't tell anyone about Mr Snape. Please? For me?"

"I -" Harry couldn't deal with Holly's beseeching expression. One on hand, his instincts screamed at him to remove the threat that Snape represented. On the other hand, he desperately wanted his sister to be happy.

Harry frowned, unhappy with his choices. "Fine. Fine, I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you!" Holly cried with relief before flinging her arms around him in a tight hug. The familiar love and reassurance melted away some of his doubt about his choice.

Holly pulled away. "Now I have to tell Aunt Narcissa you're awake. Everyone was really - hm - worried, after what happened." Her expression darkened. "Except mama. Mama said she knew we'd pull through."

"That's just how mama shows she cares," Harry defended.

Holly shrugged. She glanced away from Harry and called out: "Dobby!"

With a pop, the eager house-elf appeared, looking up at Holly with enormous, worshipful eyes. "How can Dobby serve the great Mistress Holly?"

"Can you get Aunt Narcissa, please?" Holly asked.

Dobby happily nodded. "Yes! Dobby will happily get Mistress Narcissa for the most wonderful, and most kind Mistress Holly! Dobby will do it right away!" He disappeared with yet another pop.

Harry looked over at his sister. "Is it just me or does Dobby seem more eager to serve you every time you ask for him."

Holly flushed with embarrassment. "I know we're supposed to treat house-elves like - like slaves. I know that that's all they are. But Dobby helps me to get books and art supplies. And he made me my table, and drawing board. I mean, he's weird, yes, but - well, he's nice too."

Harry shrugged. "All right. Just - make sure Uncle Lucius doesn't see it. I don't think he'd understand. He has old fashioned values, and he doesn't know you like I do. And - maybe you shouldn't let mama see either."

"I know," Holly answered darkly.

Shortly after, Narcissa's house-elf, Tizzy, announced her presence and their Aunt, followed by Bellatrix, and an unfamiliar healer entered the room.

"Harry! Holly!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "My babies! You're all right!" She turned to face Narcissa with a self-satisfied expression. "See, Cissy? Didn't I tell you that my babies are strong? They're all right." She turned back to the twins. "You're all right, aren't you?"

Harry nodded while Holly glared.

"Harry, Holly, dears," Narcissa said with concern. "How are you feeling? I was so afraid for you both. Our protective enchantments had detected that someone broke through the anti-apparition charms, and we thought something terrible had happened!" Narcissa ignored Bellatrix's smug looks and faced the healer instead. "Please tell me they're all right."

After casting a diagnosis charm on each twin, the healer hummed and turned back to Narcissa. "They appear to be in good shape. No lasting harm done."

"Thank Merlin!" Narcissa exhaled. Unable to help herself, she gave both Harry and Holly a hug. Bellatrix did the same, but Holly was noticeably stiff as Bellatrix came near her.

Narcissa's expression quickly changed from worry to sternness. "Now that I know you're both all right, you have some questions to answer."

The twin's looked up at their aunt guiltily, wilting beneath her glare.

"I thought you two had promised me that you wouldn't take your wands outside your rooms."

Harry felt the guilt intensify until it felt like a vice squeezing his chest. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Holly added.

Narcissa sighed and shook her head. "Oh dear, I just can't stay upset when you two look at me like that! Such sweet little faces! But -" a small frown marred her face. "I am _very _disappointed in both of you."

The words made Harry feel even worse. He heard Holly began to sniff at his side, and felt a thick lump in his own throat.

"We didn't want to disappoint you," Harry miserably told her.

"Oh Harry," Narcissa sighed compassionately. "I know. But - why did you do it then?"

The twins exchanged glanced.

"Well," Harry explained, "Holly likes to stay here and read or draw, but I like to go out and visit everyone. But," a troubled expression crossed his face. "Holly doesn't like to be alone. And if we keep our wands close, then we can sense each other, and I can help Holly if she needs me."

Narcissa melted. "Oh! Oh, you two are such sweet darlings. Why didn't you tell me? I would have understood."

"I _told_ you that they're brilliant at magic, Cissy," Bellatrix interjected.

"You're not being very helpful, Bella," Narcissa retorted. She returned her attention to the twins, a look of deep thought on her face. "I suppose if you've have your wands all this time, and have never hurt anyone then perhaps you can keep them. But, what were you two doing in the first place? Were you trying to apparate outside the grounds? Is that why you were both hurt?"

Harry froze. How could he possibly explain? Especially when he agreed that he wouldn't reveal Snape's presence.

"It was - an accident," Holly haltingly replied. "We were - mm - playing hide-and-seek and got carried away. We didn't mean for that to happen! We didn't know about the anti-apparition charms on the grounds!"

"Oh dear," Narcissa murmured. "Well, next time you decided to play hide-and-seek or any other games, don't use magic. Can you do that for me?"

The twins dutifully nodded.

"And if you hurt yourselves again, then I'm afraid I'm just going to have to take away your wands," Narcissa added.

"But -" Bellatrix protested.

"No arguing," Narcissa interrupted, giving her sister a firm look. "This is _my _home, and the twins must abide by our rules."

"We understand," Harry answered, chastened. Narcissa gave the twins an affectionate smile.

After the healer gave the twins one final check, and deemed them healthy enough to go about their day, the adults left the room, assuring the twins that they did not need to go to their lessons for the day. For that, Harry was grateful. As much as he enjoyed his lessons, he felt like he needed to sort out his situation with Holly.

Sensing his mood, Holly gave her brother a mulish look. "You won't be able to change my mind," she warned.

Harry sighed unhappily. "I won't make you do what you don't want to do. But -" his expression became pained, "it's hard for me to understand your thoughts. I know that you feel the way you do, but Mr Praos and Aunt Narcissa have been so nice to you. Nice to both of us. Why - why isn't that enough?"

"I tried speaking to Mr Praos about it before," Holly admitted, her voice low.

"What happened?" Harry gently asked.

"It was during our lessons. Draco was flinging bits of parchment at me under the desk -"

"He what?" Harry exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have stopped him!"

Holly shook her head, her eyes narrowed, and her lips tight. "It was - stupid. Stupid and annoying. I didn't care _that_ much though. But then, just as I was working out my sums, he flicked me and I lost concentration, and that was the day I caused his chair to shatter."

"_That_ was the reason? I could sense that something was frustrating you, but I thought it was from trying to work out the practice questions Mr Praos had given us. Why didn't you tell me that day?"

Holly shook her head again. "As I said. It was just - stupid. At least Draco ended up getting a few splinters."

Though Draco was Harry's friend, Harry snorted with amusement. "If he was flicking bits of parchment at you, he deserved it. Draco is - well, Draco. You have to be on his side or else he treats you like - like -"

"Like he treats me?" Holly finished caustically.

Harry sighed. "I'm not trying to take his side. Just - well - nevermind. What did you end up saying to Mr Praos?"

"He asked me if I was all right - if I needed to return to my room and rest," Holly recalled. "I - I was mad at Draco, but after exploding his chair, I didn't feel angry anymore, and it seemed pointless to mention that he was flicking things at me. I told Mr Praos -" Holly exhaled, and her shoulders slumped, "- I told him that it was difficult for me here. That I didn't - didn't really like it."

"And? What did he say?"

"He -" Holly shook her head, "- he seemed confused. He told me that the Malfoys were a great family. That I was fortunate to be here, and how influential Uncle Lucius was, and how kind Aunt Narcissa was. He said that if I wanted anything, all I had to do was ask. Maybe he was trying to make me feel better. But it wasn't working. I don't feel lucky to be here. I feel -" her voice became flat, "- trapped."

Harry reached forward and engulfed his sister in his arms. "You're _not_ trapped."

"But I feel that way," Holly sadly replied.

Harry pulled away, examining Holly's familiar face. It was painful, seeing her so strained and unhappy. "Is there anything I can do? I would -" he was about to say 'do anything' but was that really true? He knew he wouldn't help her to run away. Such an act seemed like madness! Who knew what kind of dangers awaited them beyond the Malfoy lands?

"I don't know," Holly answered hopelessly. "I don't think so. No."

Harry pursed his lips. "I'll help you however I can," Harry said with conviction.

"I know," Holly quietly murmured.

"But - someone like Mr Snape -" Harry shook his head. "You _can't_ trust him. I've met him before when he visits Uncle Lucius. He gives me a bad feeling."

Holly glared at Harry, her eyes flashing. "You _do_ realize that he can read minds, don't you? He already _knows_. He knows who we are. He knows what happened to us. He saw _everything_."

"How could you tell?" Harry asked stubbornly.

"I can tell because I know what it feels like to have someone in my mind. I've felt the Dark Lord in my mind!"

"I was there," Harry reminded her defensively. "He was in my mind too. I _spoke_ to him."

"Yes, and you _let_ him into your mind. You _welcomed_ him," Holly pointed out sharply. "I didn't want the Dark Lord in my mind. I wanted him _gone._ And I made him leave!"

"Are you saying that it feels different whether you welcome someone into your mind or not?" Harry asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

Holly shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know anything about that kind of magic. All I know is that horrible, invasive feeling. Mr Snape -" she sighed, "- I know he saw my thoughts. I could feel him, riffling through my memories. I was like a - a photo album, and all he needed to do was turn the pages."

"Well, you can't trust someone like that," Harry insisted. "He didn't even ask! He just - just leapt into your mind!"

"Then that means you can't trust the Dark Lord either," Holly argued. "He entered our minds without permission."

"That's different," Harry obstinately answered. "Mama was trying to communicate with him first."

"Then why didn't he just stay in mama's mind? Why try and sneak his way into ours?"

"The Dark Lord wasn't sneaking!" Harry disputed. "We were all in that cave together. Maybe that's just how the spell worked."

Holly thinned her lips. "This is stupid. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Anyway, if you don't trust the Dark Lord, then I think you _definitely _can't trust Mr Snape."

"Mr Snape said he was on our side," Holly returned.

"How could you believe him?" Harry asked, dismayed that Holly kept defending Snape.

Holly shook her head, unable to explain. "I just - I don't know. It felt like he was speaking the truth. I can't explain how I know. But he wasn't lying to us."

Harry's nails dug into his palms, his entire body tense with frustration. Why couldn't he make Holly understand just how much of a threat Snape was? But he could sense her mood just as she could sense his. They had reached an impasse. Knowing that there was no sense in arguing, Harry decided to drop the matter. But he would be keeping his eye on Mr Snape. Perhaps, if Harry was lucky, his magic had sent Snape somewhere so far away that the man would never come back. Harry could only hope.

Much to Harry's consternation, the issue of Mr Snape had driven a wedge between him and his sister. In many ways, their life remained the same: they continued to be magically linked, and while Harry explored and spent time with Bellatrix and the Malfoys, Holly read and created art. Though Harry had tried to bring up the issue of Snape a few more times, Holly obviously had no desire to discuss the matter. But so long as he could sense his sister, and know that she was within the manor, at least that meant she was safe.

As the one week turned into two, and then three, Harry wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or worried that he hadn't seen Snape since that incident out in the meadow. But Snape's absence gave Harry reason to relax. It had been difficult for him, not being able to speak to anyone but Holly about his concerns. He was so accustomed to telling Lady Aloli, or his Aunt Narcissa, or even Draco about his life that it made him uncomfortable to be carrying the weight of a secret. Though Harry couldn't completely forget about the danger that Snape represented, he was able to push the issue aside.

It was nearly a month later, that Harry started to sense a change in his sister. By this point, it was late spring, and Harry had grown closer to the Malfoys than ever. Draco had fully accepted Harry as a friend (a best friend, even), Narcissa was as much a mother as she was an aunt, and Lucius treated Harry like his right-hand man, and trusted protege. Harry felt as much like a Malfoy as he did a Black. It only saddened him that Holly did not feel the same way.

At first, Harry wanted to believe that Holly had forgotten the whole matter of Snape. He knew it was an unrealistic hope, but he couldn't help but think that by not seeing Snape again, the whole matter would slip Holly's mind. But one day, after a long talk with his Uncle Lucius about the state of affairs in Magical Britain, he returned to the twin's chambers to find Holly sitting on one of the sofas, reading an unfolded parchment. As soon he entered the room, Holly scrambled to fold up the parchment, hiding it beneath her domed hands. Through their link, the sense of emotional openness seemed to sever, and Harry instantly knew that Holly was hiding something. He had noticed a shift in her mood earlier - a sort of sense of curiosity - but since Holly read so much, that was hardly unusual. He couldn't help but wonder what was on the parchment.

The twin's eyes met. Not only did Harry know that Holly was hiding something, but Holly knew that Harry knew she was hiding something. Her efforts to hide the parchment she had been reading had been too abrupt and too blunt. Without even saying a word, Harry's expression said: 'What are you hiding?' which made Holly feel even more guarded.

Eventually, Harry broke the tense silence, and in measured tones, he said: "Hello, Holly. How has your day been? Did anything interesting happen?"

Holly's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "I don't want to play these sorts of games where no one says what they mean. Not with you." She looked down at her hands, separating them to reveal the folded up parchment. Her eyes returned to Harry. "I'm not going to tell you what this is about, so there's no point in you asking."

Holly's words hurt more than Harry cared to admit, and even though Holly had tried to block him from their link, they continued to feel each other's feelings. She winced, as she became aware of Harry's pain. Her eyes were as wounded as his, as she stated: "I'm sorry."

"Why? Why won't you tell me?" Harry pleaded.

Holly shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry. You - you wouldn't understand."

"Holly. This is _me_. Harry. I've always been there for you!"

"I - I know -" Holly said, her voice breaking. "I know. But -" her eyes grew shiny with unshed tears, "I can't share this with you."

"What do you mean 'can't'?" Harry asked, seizing on the word. "Is someone threatening you? Are they keeping you from doing something against your will? I can help you!"

Holly shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I can't. I -" she continued to shake her head," - _won't._"

"But - we share everything -"

Tears began to trail down Holly's cheeks. "Things aren't how they used to be. We've changed. For the longest time, I felt like we were one. I thought things would never change, and we'd always have the same heart and mind. But after everything that's happen, I realize that that just isn't true. We're - we're different people. We want different things."

"But we don't!" Harry argued. "We want the same things, at the deepest level. I just want us to stay together, and be safe, and I know you want the same things."

There was a hitch in Holly's breath as more tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Don't you want that?" Harry asked, desperate for consensus.

Holly nodded. "Y - yes. But - I still won't tell you what this is about."

Harry knit his brows, peering at the folded whitish-yellow parchment sitting on Holly's lap. If Holly hadn't acted so suspiciously about it, he wouldn't have thought much about it. Perhaps he would have assumed it was something from the library, or pages taken from a book. But with the way she was acting, as though she dare not let Harry see the contents of the sheet made him as suspicious as he was uneasy. Could it possibly be a letter? But who could be writing a letter to Holly? Could it be?

"Is it from Snape?" Harry asked, his voice low and ominous.

"No!" Holly cried. But something felt wrong.

"Are you - lying to me?" Harry questioned, incredulously.

Holly's eyes widened, and suddenly, he felt a agonizing pain shooting through his scar, causing him cry out as he pressed his palm to his forehead.

"How could you accuse me of lying?" Holly demanded, feeling wounded and furious. But it was the fury that won, and pain lanced from his scar to the rest of his head, making him feel like his brain was swelling uncontrollably and would soon burst from his head.

"Stop!" Harry implored. "I wasn't accusing you of being a liar. Just please - stop -"

Slowly, the pain began to ease off, and Harry gave a shuddering exhale in relief. Holly, had stood up, and was now standing in front of Harry, a look of concern in her eyes, and contrition in her stance. Harry didn't notice that she had pocketed the parchment.

"I'm sorry," Holly said mournfully. "I -" she shook her head, "I didn't meant to hurt you. I'm a terrible sister."

"No!" Harry protested, taking her hands. "You're not. I - I'm sorry for pushing you, about what you were reading. And I truly don't think you're a liar."

Holly looked up at him. "You believe me then? That this has nothing to do with Mr Snape?"

To Harry, something still felt strange and off. But with the lingering pain in his scar, it was hard for him to pinpoint what the problem was. He didn't want to be the sort of person who didn't trust his sister. And she had never lied to him before.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I believe you."

"Thank you!" Holly threw her arms around her brother, hugging him tightly. And despite the familiar, loving magic that flowed between them, Harry couldn't help the poisonous drop of doubt that plunged into the well of his heart.

-o-

Harry was on his broom, with the sun shining cheerily above, and the speed of his flying causing his robes to whip wildly about him. He leaned forward, driving himself to move faster, ever faster, but no matter how fast he flew, he couldn't escape the feelings of confusion and helplessness that made his heart feel weighed down with lead. How could a day so beautiful, so perfect for flying do so little to lift the ache in his chest?

"Where are you going?" Draco called out from behind him as the other boy attempted to keep up. "Don't think that you can outfly me! I'm just as good as you are."

Harry slowed his pace, drawing to a stop, and angled his broom so that he could face Draco. Draco stopped a short distance behind him, wearing an exaggerated scowl (an expression he seemed to have mastered). Harry attempted to force his cheeks to form a smile, but it came out looking more bitter than cheerful.

Draco knit his brows. "What's going on Harry?" he asked petulantly. "If you wanted a race, you should have told me first. You know, you haven't been yourself lately."

Harry shook his head, his mouth looking more like a straight line than a smile. "It's nothing -"

Draco huffed. "You know, you're not as good at hiding your feelings as you think. And unlike Vince and Greg, you actually _have_ feelings. Other than hunger. You may be more fun than those two, but if you're going to keep being like this, then I don't think I can keep you as my number one friend."

Harry laughed weakly at the jest. "You know that Vince and Greg can't compare to me."

Draco gave an exaggerated sigh. "You're right. But I might just knock you down to number three if you keep up your weird mood." He tilted his head, grey eyes intent on Harry. "Just tell me what's wrong. I bet I can fix it."

Harry worried his lower lip. "It's - Holly."

Draco groaned. "Your sister? I should have known. You know, everyone I've met that has a sister says that they're annoying and stupid. And did I say annoying? And stupid?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Holly is _not_ annoying and she's definitely not stupid. You just don't know her like I do."

Draco shrugged indifferently. "She's not _my_ sister, thank Merlin. So? What's her problem?"

Harry's brows drew together in a furrow. "I think she's hiding something from me. I think she's been hiding something for the past couple of months."

Draco straightened on his broom, suddenly interested. "And we're going to find out what she's hiding?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I don't want to go behind her back! I just want - her to tell me what's going on."

"Uugh. That's no fun at all!"

Harry scowled. "You're not helping."

Draco tilted his head back, looking up to the sky above. He returned his gaze to Harry. "You know, you don't _have_ to be so close to your sister. I mean, I've heard that twins are close, but not _all_ of them. I bet I'm more fun than she is. She doesn't even ever come out!"

"You see her during lessons and meals," Harry defensively replied.

"Yeah, and she looks like she never wants to be there! Well, except at lessons because she's stupid Mr Praos' little pet. Though you are too, Harry!"

"We're no one's pet," Harry growled.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"This situation just makes me so - so -" Harry tried to search his mind for the right words, "- arrrgh!"

Draco's expression softened slightly. "Hey. Let's just forget about it. Wanna race for real?"

Harry gave his friend a strained and rueful smile. "Fine. But I'm going to leave you in the dust!"

"Yeah right! South-west corner of the maze. Ready?" The boys got into racing stance, their bodies low against their broom handles "Go!"

Half a second later, they were off, moving with wicked speed on the racing brooms that Bellatrix had bought. Their finish line, the south-west corner of the maze was on the other side of the manor, but still far enough from the windows that hopefully none of the adults would spot their reckless flying. The last thing Harry wanted to face was his beloved Aunt Narcissa's disappointment yet again. Once was horrible enough.

Competing against Draco helped to take Harry's mind off his troubles. Despite Harry's boasts, the two boys were neck to neck, and Draco flashed Harry a toothy grin.

"You're not going to win this one!" Draco declared, though his words were quickly snatched away by the wind on their faces.

"Keep telling yourself that!" Harry answered, as he tried to push his broom to move faster.

This time, it was easier to lose himself in the moment, and think of nothing but winning and reaching his target. The boys had to fly low enough so that the trees scattered across the Malfoy lands could block them from any eyes watching from the manor. It resulted in a more challenging race, when everything around them was a greenish-brown blur, and all that was clear was each other.

The end was soon in sight, but there was no line that marked the finish, and as they reached the corner of the maze, Draco crowed: "I win!"

Harry snorted. "Yeah right! But if it makes you feel better, just keep telling yourself that."

"I will!" Draco declared. "Because it's true!"

Harry laughed. But as the feelings of adrenaline wore off, his thoughts immediately returned to Holly. What was he going to do? How he could convince her to open up and trust him? And yet - what if what she was hiding was worse than he thought? What if she actually _had_ been lying to him? Harry shook his head. No. He refused to believe that. Not of Holly. He _trusted_ her.

"_Harry_," Draco said warningly. "Are you thinking of you sister again?"

Harry frowned. "No. Maybe." He sighed. "_Yes_." He leaned slightly forwards, flying at a lazy pace, and Draco moved to follow.

"She's a girl. Girls are weird," Draco said, as if it were perfectly self-explanatory.

"Then does that make your mother weird? She's a girl too," Harry pointed out.

Draco scoffed. "My mother is an elegant _lady_."

Harry grinned. "I know."

"Well, I think my mother's different, and _all other_ girls are weird."

Harry chewed the inside of his mouth as he mulled over the idea. "Maybe," he finally admitted. "Even my mother's pretty weird. But weird in a good way."

"Aunt Bella?" Draco looked ready to argue that nothing about his Aunt Bella seemed particularly good, but at the last minute, his good sense prevailed and he kept his mouth shut.

After a long silence, in which both boys simply enjoyed the freedom of drifting aimlessly on their brooms, Harry spoke. "Draco -"

Draco looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Have you ever met Mr Snape?" Harry didn't exactly know why he was bringing up Mr Snape. Perhaps all of Holly's secretiveness reminded him of the strange and dangerous man. He hated the fact that some corner of his mind wondered whether something was going on between Holly and Snape. Snape couldn't be the one who sent Holly that letter. He just _couldn't _(and Holly wouldn't lie. Harry would repeat that to himself as many times as needed. Holly. Wouldn't. Lie). But thinking of the dark and morose Snape just made Harry feel so angry and powerless. His grip tightened on his broom.

"Huh? Mr Snape? You mean my father's friend?"

"Are they friends? I thought he was just another - business associate - or something."

Draco shook his head. "They knew each other in Hogwarts. But they were in different years. Snape's all right. My father says he'll be my Head of House at Hogwarts so I expect we'll be seeing a lot more of him. Why do you ask?"

Harry thinned his lips. "I don't know. He's just so -"

"Grim?" Draco supplied. "Grumpy? Serious? My father says he's always like that." He broke into a grin. "But he treats Slytherins well, so we don't have to worry. Snape knows the importance of being right side of things."

"Right side?"

Draco nodded. "During the last war, he was on our side. In fact, I heard that the Dark Lord was impressed with his potion-making abilities."

Harry's brows lifted in surprise. "Wait - he was on the Dark Lord's side?" Harry knew he shouldn't have been surprised. In fact, he had a feeling that most, if not all Lucius's 'associates' were the Dark Lord's allies, but Lucius did not speak of the last war very much, especially since it ended in the Dark Lord's presumed death (and Lucius was a future-thinking man). And yet, something about the way that Snape had reacted to Harry and Holly seemed off. Wrong. But that encounter had been so emotionally charged and so stressful that Harry couldn't pinpoint exactly what _was_ wrong.

"Yeah," Draco affirmed. "Though -" he paused, looking mildly unsure, "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to talk about it. My father always said to keep this kind of stuff between family. I don't even talk to Vince and Greg about this - though now that I think about it, I'm not sure they'd understand, not that it matters because their families were on the right side anyway. But - you're my cousin which is family, so - it's fine." Draco gave a quick nod, satisfied with his own logic.

"I thought I remembered your father say that Snape is a half-blood."

Draco pursed his mouth as he considered Harry's words. "Maybe the pure-blood side of him won out over the mudblood side."

Harry hummed and for the briefest of moments, he wondered if his pure-blood side would have been stronger than his muggleborn side if Bellatrix hadn't come to save them. The idea of being on the 'wrong' side made his skin crawl. It just didn't feel like himself. But it didn't matter anymore - the blood adoption had made him and Holly true purebloods. Bellatrix had said that the ritual had burned all the 'dirty' blood out of him.

"Maybe," Harry murmured. Though Draco's words should have reassured him, Harry didn't feel better. But now, on top of making himself sick with stress over Holly, he felt guilty about being poor company for Draco. The feelings were hard to bear - he felt restless, like he wanted to jump out of his skin, yet he was unwilling to sink into despondency. Mostly, he felt angry. Angry at himself. Angry at the world. And worse (though he tried to suppress it) he felt angry at Holly as well. Unfortunately, because of the twin's link, it only amplified the strain between them.

Harry wanted to do something. _Anything_. And flying at top speed clearly wasn't enough.

"Feel like trying to play a seekers' game?" Draco suggested, pulling Harry from his endless loop of thoughts. "I can get a snitch from the shed."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe." While Draco had fueled Harry's enthusiasm for the game of Quidditch, the pair of them played seekers' games so often that it was nothing new.

"Harrr-ee," Draco whinged, irritated by Harry's indifference.

"I'll play."

"You don't sound like you want to," Draco said darkly. "If we play, you better bring your all or I'll declare you 'loser' for infinity!"

Harry snickered, his attention returning more fully to Draco. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? But it's not going to happen."

"We'll see about that," Draco answered, fired up by the prospect of a challenge.

The pair of them turned and headed towards the broom shed. But as they flew over the grounds, Harry's eyes alighted upon Lucius's prized albino peacocks. He was reminded of his old conversation with Lady Aloli about winning Draco's loyalty and positive regard. Such an endeavour wasn't needed now - as much as Harry adored Narcissa, and as much as he admired Lucius, Draco was his best friend (second to Holly). But Harry knew that he had been a bad friend to Draco lately. And on a deeper level, the risky and potentially self-destructive plan of action called to him. If his Uncle Lucius ever caught him, he'd probably lose all of the older man's respect.

"Draco. Watch this."

"What? Harry, what are you -" but Harry was already zooming away, headed straight for the snow white peacocks.

"Harry!" Draco shouted, alarmed, but Harry ignored him, fired up by the racing of his heart, and the marked sharpening of his senses. This act of impulsiveness could ruin everything for him if it went wrong. It could take away one of the things he valued the most: the Malfoys. But the pain he felt at Holly's secretiveness hurt more, and on some level, he wanted her to feel this - to feel his anger, and fear, and utter lack of concern for himself. He wanted her to know that it _hurt_.

A few of the peacocks appeared to have noticed Harry swooping above them like a predatory bird, and began running and unfolding their wings in an attempt to escape the looming threat. But despite the advantage of their animal instincts, they lacked Harry's focused speed and determination. He drew closer and closer, and the peacocks were squawking in alarm, but Harry's reflexes were lightening fast. He reached a hand forward towards the closest peacock, managing to wrap his hand close to the base of a long tail feather, and with a yank, the feather broke free.

A feeling of triumph burst through him, and swerving at an amazingly sharp angle, he flew back towards Draco, whose mouth had fallen open in complete shock.

"Merlin and Morgaine!" Draco burst out. "What was that about?"

Harry grinned widely, his sister once again momentarily wiped from his mind. He held up the beautiful pale tail-feather hand handed it to Draco. "Here. Take it."

"If my father saw you, he'd _kill_ you. I mean, literally kill you!" Draco exclaimed as he took the feather.

Harry laughed nervously. "I hope not. He spends most of his time in the library, and the library is on the other side -"

Draco examined the feather. "Thank Merlin this isn't a blood feather. My father lectured me all through my childhood about the dangers of pulling out a blood feather. The peacocks could have bled out!"

"Oh." Harry knit his brows. "I'm glad it wasn't a blood feather."

"What were you _thinking_?"

Harry rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, now self-conscious. "I figured I had been really bad company for you lately - you know, being distracted and all. And knowing how much you hate those peacocks -"

Draco's eyes widened. "You did that - for me?" Draco shook his head. "Harry. You're insane!"

Harry gave another nervous laugh.

"And bloody _awesome_!" Draco fervently added. "I can't believe it! I just -" he shook his head, "can't believe it. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would have thought that you just took a feather that the peacocks shed. You are _so_ crazy. You know what? You've earned the position of being my best friend. Forever."

Harry blinked. "Really?"

Draco nodded firmly. "Really, really."

"Well then -" Harry pursed his lips. "You're my best friend too."

"Forever?" Draco prodded.

Harry broke out into a wide smile, feeling a new sense of lightness in his heart. "Forever."

When Harry returned to the twin's chambers, it was later than usual. Dealing with Holly was difficult these days, and he didn't want to ruin the happy feelings of his time with Draco, so he did his best to lock those feelings away, and strengthen himself. As Harry pushed open the door, Holly looked up from the book she was reading, her expression unnaturally neutral. She lowered the book onto her lap.

"Harry. How was your day?" Holly asked. "It seemed - dramatic."

Harry shrugged, and shut the door behind him, shuffling towards her until he was standing next to the coffee table in front of her. For some reason, he didn't sit next to her, and unsure of what to do with his hands, he placed them in his robe pockets. "I was out flying with Draco. We had a lot of fun. He's a good friend."

Holly made a humming sound.

"In fact," Harry continued, "I even swooped down and stole a peacock's feather, right off its tail."

Holly's eyes widened. "That's what happened? Wasn't that dangerous?"

"Yes, probably," Harry admitted. "And if Uncle Lucius found out, he'd likely lose all respect for me and hate me. But you're my sister, and I don't believe in keeping secrets from you."

Holly's lips thinned into a dark line, and she hummed again, her gaze drifting towards a lovely vase of flowers sitting on one of the decorative side tables.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Holly."

Holly looked back up towards Harry, and he could see and feel her defensiveness. "What," she asked flatly.

"I _know_ you're hiding something. I thought we could _talk_ to each other about these kinds of things!" he blurted out.

Holly's brows met in a crease. She shook her head. "Don't do this, Harry. If I'm hiding something from you, it's because I _care_."

"What does that even mean?" Harry asked with frustration.

"I can feel what you feel! I _know_ you're frustrated and - and hurt. And I _hate_ it! But - maybe I don't tell you everything because - because you wouldn't understand!"

"How would you know I wouldn't understand unless you told me?" Harry cried out.

"Because I _know_ you!"

"And I know _you_," Harry shot back.

The magic and emotions seemed to crackle between them, but both knew that they had reached that same impasse that they never seemed to overcome. Harry balled his hands into fists, feeling his nails digging painfully into his palms.

He let out a sound of helpless frustration. "I _hate _this."

Holly's expression was stubborn and sad. "I hate this too."

"Why can't you try and be happy here?" Harry lamented.

"Why can't you try and escape with me?" Holly retorted.

"Yeah, but things can get better."

"And opportunities could be found if we leave," Holly countered.

Harry slumped his shoulders and sighed. He looked away from his sister, his gaze distant and unfocused. "Draco and I decided that we're best friends."

He was met with silence, and after a time, he looked back at Holly. But he didn't have to. He could feel her confused shock and distress.

She looked up at him with watery eyes. "I thought _we_ were best friends."

Harry's voice broke as he spoke. "Holly - you're - you're like - half of me. My other half." He shook his head. "I don't feel like an entire person without you. But - right now, I don't feel like we're truly friends."

Tears were streaming down her face, and Harry felt the his heart in his throat, and a prickling in his eyes.

"How could you _say_ that?" Holly asked, and the betrayal that Harry felt through their link was as horrible as being severed alive. It felt like everything within him was breaking. It felt like he would die from the weight of the pain. It was the worst thing ever.

"How can I believe that we're friends when you keep things from me? And I might not know what it is, but I _feel_ it. I feel it." His voice broke. "I'm sorry," he whispered. And it wasn't just Holly that felt betrayed; knowing that Holly was keeping something was betrayal enough for Harry.

"I -" Holly shook her head, unable to find words. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and Harry could feel his own tears streaming down his face. Abruptly Holly stood up and left the sitting room, retreating into the relative privacy of the bedroom. As Harry heard her shut the door behind her, it felt like he was being shut out of her life. Their link might have remained open, but all that either of them felt was deepest sense of despair.

Perhaps, if they had time to sort out of their feelings, and time to work on their problems, the issue would have sorted itself out. But whether their rift would organically mend or not, they would never find out, because the twin's lives would soon be turned completely upside down.

-o-

Harry woke up the next day feeling disoriented and unsure of where he was. The colours and decor around him were familiar, and yet the room looked all wrong. As the cobwebs cleared from his mind, he soon realized that he had fallen asleep on the couch. He looked over at the bedroom door, but it remained shut, and when he tried to sense Holly through their link, he could tell that she was still sleeping. Neither of them had fallen asleep until late, the previous night, but by the time Harry had drifted off, he could still sense Holly's consciousness. Had she been awake even later than him?

For a moment, he worried that she might suffer a nightmare. Rift or not, he still loved her more than anything in the world, and he wouldn't have hesitated to help wake her. But her sleep felt dreamless. With a sigh, Harry forced himself up, and stretched out the cramps in his body. Padding towards the mirror, he rinsed his face and attempted to straighten out his hair. Distantly, he remembered a time when a skinny woman would scream at him for the unruliness of his black hair, but since the adoption ritual, his hair seemed to have a way of falling into place on its own, the ends curling slightly. But neat or messy, Harry did not particularly care about his appearance, beyond the necessity of 'looking presentable. Lady Aloli had drilled in the fact that people would judge him for his looks. It was just a fact of life.

For a moment he wondered whether he should go ahead to lessons without Holly, or whether he should stay, but then he resolved to stay. It wasn't worth even contemplating the idea of leaving her. It was Holly, and upset or not, of course Harry would stay with her. He was flipping through one of the books that had been left on a side table, when he sensed a familiar sense of fear and helplessness through their link. Holly was having a nightmare. Looking at the closed door, he wondered if he should enter and shake her awake, but he knew that she might not appreciate that, and with his wand in hand, there were other ways to wake her. As much as he wanted to see her and feel her familiar touch, he also knew her well enough to understand her boundaries, and how he would be violating them.

He wrapped his hand around his wand in his pocket (it didn't have to be pointed at Holly), and focusing on their shared link, he sent a burst of gentle magic that would slowly wake her. It had taken many, many attempts to get the amount of magic just right, but Harry had had months of experience in trying. After all, when she was taking a nap in the afternoon, he didn't always have enough time to run back to their chambers to wake her.

He released his wand, and as he felt Holly come awake, he absently rubbed at the itchiness on his arm. Harry was so accustomed to the unfortunate quirks of the 'Betrayer' wands that he never even gave it any thought anymore. He sensed relief first when she realized her terrible nightmares weren't real, mingled with the anxiety that bad dreams always brought. Usually, at this point, her mood would improve as she got out of bed, but today wasn't like every other day. Harry felt the precise moment when the memory of the previous day returned to her. The emotional pain of it was staggering, knocking the breath from his lungs. But he didn't try and shut the feelings out - for reasons he couldn't define, he felt like he deserved punishment. Was he wrong to tell Holly that he didn't feel like she was a friend? The idea hurt, but it remained true. How could she be a friend if she didn't trust him and open up to him?

Harry flinched when he heard the bedroom door open. His sister gave him a brief, wounded look before gazing elsewhere. It made Harry feel like a heel, and perhaps, under different circumstances, he would let Holly's feelings sway him, and beg forgiveness. But he couldn't forget the fact that Holly was _still_ hiding something from him. In this conflict, there was no innocent party.

"Holly," he greeted softly, unable to keep a tremour of emotion out of his voice.

"Harry," she said, just as softly, her voice strained.

Neither of them knew what else to say that hadn't already been said the previous night. Neither were ready for apologies and both of them knew it. Despite being able to feel his sister through their shared link, Harry had never felt so alone.

They went down to their lessons, the tension between them palpable and weighty, like a shared mantle of gloom. Even Draco, who had a tendency to be self-absorbed, looked from one twin to the other, and wisely decided not to comment or make any gibes. But he still gave Harry a small smile that Harry returned.

They weren't even halfway through their lesson, when they heard a noise, and Bellatrix burst into the room unannounced, the door hitting the wall with a boom that made everyone flinch. Harry didn't even realize the doors _could_ bang into the walls. He assumed everything in the manor was charmed to match the elegant grace of the Malfoys, including doors that opened gently.

Bellatrix's eyes found Harry's and she broke into one of her manic-looking grins. "The ritual," she said breathlessly, practically humming with excitement. "We've pieced it together. We're going my babies!"

Next to him, he heard Draco repeat, "Babies," under his breath with an amused snicker, but it wasn't Draco's reaction that Harry was concerned with. It was Holly's.

He glanced over to his sister, and her eyes were wide with open dismay, her head shaking a silent 'No.'

"Where -" Harry began, but Bellatrix hurriedly cut him off, saying: "Get packed and ready! We're going to Albania!"

"But -" Harry looked from Bellatrix to Holly. Though he still wanted to help the Dark Lord, he felt that he had to stop this somehow. It was too soon, and they couldn't leave when things weren't right between him and his sister. And what about his newfound friendship with Draco? What if after leaving again, Draco forgot them, like he had last time?

"Albania?" Draco echoed, his laughter gone as she sensed the seriousness of the mood. "Why are you going to Albania? You're all going?"

"I'm _not _going," Holly said, barely above a whisper.

"We're not ready," Harry added weakly.

"Well then _get_ ready," Bellatrix answered, as if it were simple common sense. "Because we're leaving _today_. Lucius will be joining us later." Her face twisted into a scowl of irritation. "He wants to be there for our Lord's return, and unfortunately, I need him for part of the ritual."

"Wait - my father is going too?" Draco looked from Bellatrix to Harry back to Bellatrix, but no one was paying attention to him.

"Once you're packed, I'll meet you out in the entrance hall," Bellatrix decided. "The house-elf will follow with our things." She swept around, eager to leave, but then, louder this time, Holly said: "I'm _not_ going."

Bellatrix paused in her step, and turned around to look at Holly. An expression that Harry hadn't seen in a long time was on Bellatrix's face: wariness.

"Holly," Bellatrix said slowly, not adding any terms of endearment. "I know you are young and this is perhaps difficult to understand. But this is for the best, for all of us."

"No!" Holly cried, and in a burst of accidental magic, a snaking beam of bluish light, like a bolt of jagged lightning, flew towards Bellatrix. But Bellatrix wasn't an accomplished duelist for nothing, and with a movement so fast it was almost unreal, she pulled out her wand and amazingly, deflected the beam away, causing it to explode as it hit one of the side walls next to a shaken-looking Mr Praos, who had pulled his own wand out to minimize the impact of the blast.

"That was an accident!" Harry quickly burst not, not wanting the situation to escalate between Holly and Bellatrix. "Accidental magic!"

Bellatrix turned her head towards towards Harry, and that crazed-animal look in her eyes subsided slightly. She nodded and lowered her wand. "Be ready in the entrance hall in an hour." Without another word, she turned back around and left.

Harry heard Mr Praos murmur: "Oh dear, I'd best clean this up," and he also felt the weight of Draco's eyes on him, but Harry's attention was fixed on his sister, who looked shattered. He could feel her fear, confusion and dread, and it was terrible.

Harry reached out to take her hand, and Holly did nothing to resist. "The Dark Lord _will_ make things better," he tried to reassure her gently. But Holly only shook her head, looking ready to crumple at any moment.

"Why don't you two head up to your rooms," Mr Praos suggested, his calm voice a steadying force.

Harry looked towards the tutor and nodded gratefully. He stood up, pulling his sister with him, but then Draco stood as well, grabbing Harry's sleeve and hissing: "Harry. Are you _really_ going?"

Harry gave his friend a troubled look, barely able to meet Draco's grey eyes. "Yeah," he answered softly. "We have to."

"But Harry!" Draco's expression was bewildered. "When will you be back? You'll be back, right?"

Harry shook his head, and his voice cracked when he spoke. "I don't know. I hope so."

Draco's grip tightened on Harry's sleeve. "I don't want you to go."

"I _have _to," Harry answered miserably.

Draco jutted his lower lip out stubbornly. But then, he released Harry's robes, and Harry couldn't make sense of the resolve in Draco's eyes. "My father will be going. I'm going to have a word with him." And without waiting for Mr Praos' leave, or Harry's reply, Draco stormed off.

Harry looked over to his sister, but she wasn't meeting his eyes. "Come on," he said gently, squeezing her hand. And as he walked forward, she obediently followed, like a lifeless wraith.

When they returned to their rooms, Harry led Holly to the sofa and sat her down. She let him, without argument. He couldn't even feel any fight within her, and it made his chest ache in the worst possible way. Knowing that she'd be in no state of mind to pack, he decided he would take care of the task for her.

As Harry began placing folded clothes and other necessities in their shared trunk, he sensed Holly's mood beginning to change. Some of her spirit was returning, and a seed of hope began to bud within him. Maybe things would work out somehow. Maybe everything would work out. He began to pack with a little more enthusiasm, letting his mind drift into daydreams where he was flying on his broom, Holly sitting tandem behind him and finally appreciating the sheer exhilaration of being up the air, while Draco flew next to them, somehow friends with both twins. Down on the ground, Bellatrix and the elder Malfoys watched with pride, and somewhere, a shadowy figure that represented the Dark Lord worked his magic to make everything all right in the world.

He was distracted from his daydream by a loud pop that indicated a house-elf had appeared in the room, pulling him back to reality. It caused him to once again pay more attention to his link with his sister, and his heart lurched when he felt it: that furtiveness that had driven him to question his relationship with Holly in the first place. Straining his ears, he heard only a soft susurrus. With his heart pounding in his chest, he dashed towards the doorway, and his eyes widened as he saw Holly hand a folded parchment to Dobby, who gave Harry an apologetic glance before vanishing with another loud pop.

He turned an accusing gaze towards his sister. "What did you do?"

Holly's expression was guilty, but then she tilted her chin up stubbornly. "Getting help."

Harry frowned. "What does that mean?"

"So are we going?" Holly asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Harry felt completely off balanced, giving his sister a confused look. "I'm almost done packing and then we can go."

Holly nodded decisively, which only increased Harry's confusion. "You're - ready?" he wondered.

She gave him a flat look. "Do I have a choice?"

Harry drew his brows together, unsure of how to answer. Finally, he said: "Sometimes there's a bigger picture." His Uncle Lucius often spoke of the 'big picture.' "A -" Harry paused to find the right words, "- a greater purpose. Greater good."

Holly's lips thinned into a line, and then she nodded again. "Yes. Sometimes there is a greater good."

Harry gave her an uncertain look. "So you understand?" It was hard to read her emotions, even though the link.

"I understand well enough," she answered coolly.

Harry finished packing soon after, and the twins headed down towards the direction of the entrance hall. Since Harry didn't know how long they'd be gone for, he paused in front of Lady Aloli's portrait, informing her that they'd be leaving for a while. The twinge of disappointment in her eyes made him sad, but the stern lady managed to put on a brave face, and gave him a warm goodbye, as an afterthought, adding "I'm proud of you, Harry." He felt a thickening discomfort in his throat and nodded, before saying his own sad goodbye. As they continued along the corridor, Harry peeked over at his sister hesitantly, but she was determinedly keeping her expression and her emotions neutral. Bellatrix was already in the entrance hall, gesticulating irritably as she spoke to Narcissa. Lucius and Draco were nowhere in sight.

"But don't you think that some more time to prepare would be better?" they heard Narcissa ask Bellatrix.

"Cissy -" Bellatrix growled warningly.

"You _can't_ just keep gallivanting off like this! I understand that the Dark Lord is important but what about the twins? What about your own well-being?"

"I will feel _well_ when our Master has returned," Bellatrix snapped. "You always did worry excessively. But don't forget - you're the baby of the family, and _I'm_ the eldest. I have years of experience on you."

Narcissa's expression was more mulish than Harry had ever seen it. "Years spent in Azkaban."

"You know nothing -" Bellatrix spat out angrily. "This is more important than _anything_ I have ever done. And _nothing_ you say will stop me!"

Narcissa exhaled in frustration. Attempting a reasonable tone, she said: "I'm not trying to stop you, Bella. I _care_ about you."

But moments later, Bellatrix noticed the twins and her expression lightened. "Ah, you two are here, at last!"

Narcissa turned to look at them, her expression troubled. "Harry? Holly?"

Harry nodded respectfully, and the twins descended the rest of the stairs and stopping a short distance away from the two women. "Aunt Narcissa." He looked between his aunt and his adopted mother. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Bellatrix answered at the same time as Narcissa said: "Bella and I were just having a little discussion."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Harry asked. He never liked to see others fight.

Narcissa smiled fondly. "It's very kind of you to ask, Harry."

"We're _fine_," Bellatrix added impatiently. "But you are very sweet, Harry dear," she said as an afterthought.

Narcissa stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, glancing from Harry to Holly and back to Harry again. Knowing Holly's reticent nature, Narcissa addressed the question to Harry, though it was meant for both twins. "Are you two sure that you want to go on this trip? You both seem -" she darted a glance at Holly, "- better here. And it's much safer. As far as I can tell, neither of you are actually needed for the ritual."

"They're still important!" Bellatrix argued. "The Dark Lord will wish to see them immediately. To know that they are among his loyal ranks."

Harry peeked over at his sister, but her expression remained unreadable. "We'll be fine," he assured his aunt, as much as he tried to assure himself. "We can take care of ourselves."

Narcissa frowned. "You shouldn't have to take care of yourselves. That's the job of adults. _We're_ supposed to take care of _you_."

"Adults can't take care of everything," Holly said, so softly that Harry barely heard her. But Harry nodded in agreement with the sentiment.

Narcissa's expression turned sad, though Harry wasn't sure why. "Oh Harry. Holly. That -" her voice faltered, and when she spoke again, it was thick with emotion. "That isn't right. You're young. You should be - carefree."

Solemnly, Harry said: "You don't have to worry about us. We'll be all right."

Narcissa let out a rueful laugh. "I was trying to reassure you, and here you are trying to reassure me."

Harry gave her a bemused look. Why would he need reassurance? Although Narcissa had always been especially nice so maybe it shouldn't have been so bewildering. But it almost made him feel like something was wrong with himself.

Narcissa's sad smile resurfaced. "Harry, you're far too young to act so old." She sighed, looking over at Bellatrix who shot Narcissa an aggrieved glare.

"There's nothing wrong with Harry," Bellatrix muttered.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with Harry," Narcissa retorted. "He's not the adult here. _You_ are."

"Yes, and it is my _adult_ judgement that the twins will be just fine. Better than fine, in fact!" Bellatrix decided. She turned her attention to the twins. "Ready to go?"

Harry looked around the entrance hall. "Where's Draco? And Uncle Lucius?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Old _Lucy_ will join us later."

"Don't call him that," Narcissa hissed. "He's my husband. Have some respect, Bella!"

Bellatrix only rolled her eyes again, and Narcissa's cheeks flushed pink in aggravation.

"You are just _impossible_," Narcissa said under her breath.

"What about Draco?" Harry cut in. He didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. Not again.

"I'm not certain," Narcissa replied, faint lines appearing between her brows. "I'll call a house-elf and ask."

"There's no time for that," Bellatrix burst out impatiently. "Come on, Harry."

"Bella, no!" Narcissa cried, but Bellatrix moved too fast, grabbing Harry by the arm (while Harry instinctively reached for Holly's hand.) Seconds later, he felt his whole body being compressed as the three of them apparated away, reappearing out in the countryside.

"We'll have to take several jumps like before," Bellatrix murmured.

Unhappily, Harry tried to yank his arm away, but Bellatrix only tightened her grip. "I wanted to say goodbye to Draco."

Bellatrix tilted her head back and let out an exaggerated groan. "I _hate_ long and teary goodbyes. Cissy is bad enough."

"I wouldn't have cried!" Harry protested.

"No, but Draco might have," Bellatrix pointed out.

Harry bit down on his lower lip, his emotions a mix between frustration at Bellatrix, dismay, and dark amusement. Amusement won, and a muffled laugh escaped his lips. He was still distraught by the abrupt goodbye, but the idea of Draco crying over him was pretty funny. Draco almost never cried, unless it was crocodile tears to convince Narcissa to buy him some new (and probably dangerous) toy. Or that one time he fell off the racing broom and broke his arm, but Harry had dutifully promised never to bring up the fact that Draco cried about that to anyone _ever_.

Bellatrix smirked. "Besides, we won't be gone long."

Harry looked up at her, wide-eyed. "We won't?"

Bellatrix snorted, as if it should have been obvious. "Of course not. Unlike last time, this time, we _know_ where the Dark Lord is. There's only the ritual and then -" she paused and her eyes were shining, at whatever beautiful future she was likely envisioning.

"Then?" Harry prodded.

"And then _he'll_ be back," Bellatrix finished reverently. "My master, the Dark Lord. He'll make the world right again. He'll make everything right - the way it's _supposed_ to be."

Harry examined Bellatrix's face, and saw only sincerity. He nodded.

"Come along then. Let's make our next jump," she said, and with another loud crack, they were off.

-o-

When Harry, Holly and Bellatrix arrived in Albania, they were exhausted. Harry hadn't felt this degree of exhaustion in months - not since their last series of apparition jumps when they returned from the crystal cave to Malfoy manor. Life at the manor was soft in comparison. Bellatrix had said this trip would be a quick and easy one, but some part of him wondered if he would truly be prepared. All he did at the manor was study, sit in on some of Lucius's meetings, tend to Narcissa's flowers, and fly. Would he still have the quick reflexes he needed to defend himself and his sister?

But Bellatrix appeared to be entirely unconcerned. The three of them had apparated to the outskirts of a small wizarding village that appeared to be plopped on top of a forested hillside, with well-spaced washed-out looking white buildings covered with red-brown tiled roofs. With the overcast and darkening sky in the background, the entire scene looked drab and tired. Or perhaps Harry's own tiredness was skewing his perception. He squeezed Holly's hand, but she didn't squeeze back and he gave her a worried look. But aside from the dark circles under her eyes, her expression remained blank. Worryingly blank.

"Holly?" he hesitantly ventured.

She gave him a cool look. "I'm fine," she said flatly.

He knit his brows but nodded. Her emotions didn't indicate distress. Returning his attention to Bellatrix, Harry asked: "Will we be staying in the tent again?

Bellatrix's mouth formed a vexed moue. "Who knows when that _lazy_ house-elf will get here, useless little things." She gave a put out sigh. "Much as I'd like to find the Dark Lord right away, I must be at my best in order to perform the ritual. We'll have to see if we can find an inn here that isn't a flea pit."

Harry nodded with relief. With the way Bellatrix drained their magic during their apparition jumps, he wanted nothing more than to fall limp into a soft, warm bed.

The small village only contained one tiny inn, and when Bellatrix saw it, she could barely hide her disgust. But shoddy or not, this was a wizarding village, full of pure-blood folk, and Bellatrix's polite mask asserted itself, as she requested a room from the innkeeper. Guests must have been rare, because Harry's sharp eyes registered the man's surprise at even having potential lodgers. Perhaps the innkeeper made most of his income from bar patrons rather than roomers.

Once they had made themselves as comfortable as possible in their tiny room, Harry attempted to draw Holly into conversation. But either Bellatrix's close proximity put her off, her she didn't want to speak to him, because Holly remained stubbornly reserved. He had a feeling it was the latter, from the way her eyes would occasionally narrow at him, and he'd sense a flash of anger and a twinge of pain in his scar. It made him miserable. At least when he was holding her hand, he could lie to himself and pretend that things were as they always were. But a lie was just that: a lie, and there was no denying that things were bad between him and Holly.

There was only a single small bed in the room, which Bellatrix offered to share with the twins, but Holly decided she would rather sleep on the cramped old-fashioned sofa, while Harry offered to sleep next to her on the floor. He kept glancing over at his sister, wondering if he'd at least see some twinge of sympathy, but she only shrugged, and said: "If you want to."

Biting down on his lower lip, he slumped down on the floor, at the foot of the sofa. Next to him was a pile of bedding that a friendly woman (perhaps the innkeeper's wife?) had brought. But Harry's thoughts were fixed on his sister. Couldn't she see that he was trying? Couldn't she feel how much her words stung him? How could she shut her heart out so easily, while for Harry, it just wouldn't stop hurting?

"Stop that," Holly hissed, causing him to look up at her, bewildered and wounded. "You don't understand. You said it yourself. Greater good. So _trust me_."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low and quiet so that Bellatrix, who was already half-asleep on the bed, wouldn't hear.

"_Do_ you trust me?" Holly wondered, challengingly.

Harry thinned his lips, intently searching her familiar green eyes. Did he trust her? After sensing that she had been keeping secrets for who knows how long, he wasn't sure if he could, and that was an unbearable thought.

"What are you hiding?"

Holly thinned her lips, but he could still detect a small tremble. "I'm going to sleep."

Harry looked away from her. "Fine. Good night then."

"Good night," she answered, and through their link, he felt a whisper of sadness before her emotional blankness reasserted itself.

Falling asleep turned out to be easy when he was magically exhausted after a day of travel. It wasn't even really that late, and the time zone difference was only an hour. But all of them would need their energy for the day ahead.

Harry couldn't even recall falling asleep. One moment he was thinking about Holly, which only made him miserable, so he started thinking of Draco which made him a bit happier but also also a bit sadder, and slightly upset since had really wanted to say goodbye. And then it was just blackness.

'You've returned,' said a familiar sibilant voice, like a soft caress in his mind. Was he in Holly's dream? No, he couldn't even sense his sister at all.

'Your sister is in the deepest phase of sleep,' the voice told him. 'Not a whisper of consciousness. Empty. _Vulnerable_.'

The words felt like a punch in his gut. 'Don't you dare hurt my sister,' Harry thought, threateningly. Immediately, he sensed the voice's surprise.

'You can speak,' the voice remarked. 'How curious. You never did so before.'

Before? Harry felt something, like a strand of a spider's web, tugging at his mind, telling him that this was familiar somehow. But how could this be familiar? He was sure he would remember something so odd as someone speaking to him in his dreams. It was almost like -

'The Dark Lord?' he thought.

There was a feeling of amusement that wasn't his own. 'Clever boy. I was right to lay claim to you.'

'I am _not_ something to be claimed,' Harry thought, before he realized that this was the Dark Lord, and not just some random voice in his head.

But the amusement remained. 'You have spirit. I can use that strength.'

Harry wasn't sure of how to answer that. 'Why didn't I hear from you before?' he mused. If the Dark Lord could speak to him in his sleep, then why did Harry only remember the encounter in the crystal cave?

'You have,' the Dark Lord answered, startling Harry.

'You lack sufficient ability in mind magics to remember,' the Dark Lord continued. 'Something that will have to be rectified if you are to be of use.'

'What do you mean, I have?' Harry asked.

'I've been in your minds before. Prior to that moment when Bellatrix found me and your voices became clear. I haven't sensed you since. Until now.'

Harry did his best to make sense of the words. The Dark Lord was referencing the crystal caves. And then? As Harry thought, it occurred to him that perhaps, the Dark Lord couldn't access his mind while he was all the way in Britain. But now, the twins were closer to the Dark Lord than ever. Was this why they could communicate?

But Harry's mind was already elsewhere, pulling at pieces of his memories, and remembering the things that the Dark Lord had said when they had spoken in the crystal cave. But back then, Harry had still been filled with a certain degree of conviction. He wasn't sure if he had that conviction anymore. Unlike most others who gave themselves over in service of the Dark Lord, Harry had never actually directly witnessed the Dark Lord's power, and didn't know what the other man was capable of. The Dark Lord may have made great promises, but in the past few months, Harry had gained a greater understanding of the cheapness of words. Even Lady Aloli had said that words were tools to use to one's advantage.

'You said if I took your side, you could give me what I want,' Harry thought. 'But how can I know whether that's true?'

A wave of fury, as intense (if not more so) than anything that Holly had ever felt swept through him, like a raging forest fire, sending the feeling of a thousand scalding pinpricks through his scar. In his dream-like state, Harry didn't know how to defend himself against such an onslaught of emotion. It was simultaneously terrifying and yet disturbingly infectious, and Harry couldn't tell where the Dark Lord's feelings ended and where his own began.

But as abruptly as the the emotions came, they vanished just as quickly, so that Harry couldn't even guess what the Dark Lord was feeling. He knew he had offended the Dark Lord with his doubt, but was the Dark Lord still angry?

Amusement returned, and the startling shifts in emotions was dizzying. 'You are of a different time. You have never witnessed the vastness of my own power and abilities. Little wonder that you doubt. I suppose your open-eyed scepticism is more evidence of your intelligence.'

'So - you aren't angry?' Harry nervously wondered.

Hot ire and another flash of pain in his scar appeared, but then vanished so quickly that Harry wondered if he had imagined it.

'No,' the voice said smoothly. 'I am not angry.'

Before Harry could even think about expressing his doubts, there was a new sensation, soothing and curious. Was the Dark Lord curious about him?

'There's something you want,' the Dark Lord said, and the words felt more like a soft caress than ever. 'Something troubles you? Will you share it with me?'

'You want to know?' Harry thought, surprised.

'You don't think my followers follow me based on my power alone, do you?' the voice purred. 'It's true that I am incredibly powerful, but I also take an interest in my follower's lives. I have no interest in half-hearted supporters.'

Harry's surprise still remained. With the way Bellatrix sometimes described the Dark Lord, he seemed like a distant figure, inaccessible to mere mortal, like themselves. And yet, here was the Dark Lord acting like a confidant. Was it an act of kindness, or were there ulterior motives? With a start, he realized that Lady Aloli's lessons had seeped deeply into his mind, reshaping his perceptions.

'Can you read my mind?' Harry questioned.

'Do you want me to? I am only reading your surface thoughts - the ones you willingly send.'

It was yet another response that Harry didn't expect. He would have expected the Dark Lord to plunder his mind for all of his darkest secrets. Didn't Lady Aloli (and even Uncle Lucius) always say that knowledge was power? And other people's secrets were a source of great power. Yet, the Dark Lord had respected his personal boundaries, and had chosen not to invade his mind. Unless - he was lying.

But Holly had claimed that she had felt the invasion of her own mind. If the Dark Lord was lying, wouldn't Harry have felt the Dark Lord riffling through his memories? And this was the _Dark Lord_. Why would he even need to lie in the first place? But, the fact was that some part of Harry _wanted_ to trust the Dark Lord. He was aware that he couldn't do everything himself - that his own power was limited. But by allying himself to the Dark Lord, perhaps he really could get everything that he wanted. Couldn't it be possible? His chest ached as he thought of how much he missed his closeness to his sister. Everything just felt so _wrong_ when his sister put up her emotional walls against him. The hurt quickly transformed into anger and hatred towards Gris Malmangeur. If they hadn't met that despicable gargoyle, none of this would have happened.

'Harry,' the voice said, and despite the lack of upward inflection, it was a question. 'Your emotions.'

In this state, Harry didn't have a good sense of his own body, but he felt a frisson of anxiety radiating from his core. Had he just broadcasted all his feelings to the Dark Lord? Merlin. This was bad. Shame quickly replaced anxiety, and he wanted nothing more than to throw himself into the deepest pit and never resurface.

'There's nothing wrong with what you feel,' the voice continued, low and soothing, and Harry's mortification began to subside.

'You want something,' the Dark Lord continued gently. 'You mentioned family before. Will you tell me?'

Harry wanted to open up. He wanted nothing more than to spill all his troubles, and have someone else solve them. To have someone he could speak to who could simply listen and understand. Draco was a good friend, but anytime he brought up Holly, Draco would invariably joke about the uselessness of sisters, and while it sometimes helped to make Harry laugh, it also meant that he couldn't truly expose the depths of his problems. And yet -

'Didn't you say that wanting family was pitiful?' Harry couldn't forget that last encounter.

Another heated blaze of emotion gone as quickly as it came, left Harry feeling dazed. 'For most people, families _are_ a weakness,' the Dark Lord asserted. 'But you, Harry. You're _different_.'

Harry wasn't sure of what to make of that. 'Different how?'

'How many other people have you met that have a relationship like yours and your sister's? How many others can share magic, dreams, emotions? Share _power_?'

Harry searched his memory. 'I've never met anyone like me and Holly,' he admitted.

A feeling of the Dark Lord's satisfaction flooded Harry's mind.

'Do - D'you really want to -' Harry felt his embarrassment resurface, '- hear my thoughts?'

'Of course,' the voice assured him.

'You do?' Harry didn't expect an answer to that. He was already on a precipice, longing to leap. And then leaping. Almost by magic, the thoughts started to pour out of Harry's mind, like a dam bursting. 'It's - my sister. I just -' a feeling of hurt and frustration took the place of words. 'Everything changed after that trip. After we met that _stupid_ gargoyle. I -' a wave of anger coursed through him.

Everything that came out of Harry was a jumbled mix of half-formed words and feelings. But Harry could sense the Dark Lord's attention and absorption in what Harry was telling him. And as Harry finally let loose his torrent of feelings, he realized just how much he wanted to talk about these things. Losing Holly meant losing the one person he thought he could tell everything to. And though Lady Aloli had taught him how to moderate his reactions, it didn't change the fact that Harry was used to having someone he could just _talk_ to and be with.

By the time he was out of words, Harry was drained. He wasn't sure if he had made the right choice, confiding in a being who was practically a stranger, and yet, once he started, he couldn't have stopped himself. Perhaps the Dark Lord would ridicule him, or use his feelings against him (like Lady Aloli warned that people were bound to do). Harry steeled himself, prepared for the worst.

'I'm glad you told me,' the voice eventually said.

They fell into a silence that seemed to stretch for so long that Harry wondered if the Dark Lord had left. Had Harry's story repulsed him? Had he revealed too much weakness, and proven himself no good? Anger was once again starting to worm its way into Harry's chest and up this throat, when the voice spoke again.

'There was a time, long ago, when I faced troubles with my own family. When I wanted them on my side.'

Harry's anger quickly evapourated, replaced by curiosity.

'I spent - years and years of my life, striving to be the best, needing to prove my worth,' the voice continued, almost emotionlessly. 'They thought the worst of me, you see. My -' a brief but heavy pause, '- family.'

'What happened?' Harry asked, his own feelings now forgotten as he listened to the Dark Lord with fascination.

'In my early days, I wasn't well liked,' the Dark Lord explained. 'It took years to learn how to earn the positive regard of others. But paying close attention to others - understanding how think they, how they feel, and what they want - learning those things enabled me to slowly work my way upwards.'

Harry could hardly contain his surprise. The Dark Lord's words reminded him so much of Lady Aloli's and even Uncle Lucius's advice, and somehow, though it was hard to wrap his mind around, he found that he could relate to the older man.

'Why did your family think the worst of you?' Harry wondered.

'They couldn't understand me. They didn't see that I was trying my best. Didn't trust my good intentions.'

The Dark Lord's words were like a blade through Harry's heart, reminding him so much of Holly - of how she had turned away from him, and wouldn't understand that Harry just wanted the best for _both_ of them.

'I opened myself to them, and they shot me down,' the Dark Lord continued.

'What happened next?' Harry quietly asked, so invested in the story that he was almost frightened to find out.

'By then, I was powerful - much more powerful than I was before. I was able to show them how wrong they were. How badly they misjudged me.'

The story felt incomplete to Harry. 'And then?'

'And then they never questioned me again. Never doubted me again.'

In this strange dreamspace, Harry's felt the expansiveness of surprise. Of something like amazement. The Dark Lord's story was almost like a shining path in the darkness - or a lighthouse or guidepost. If the Dark Lord could change his family's mind, then Harry could change Holly's - especially with the Dark Lord on his side. He was seized by hope and possibilities. What he wanted felt close enough to taste.

'I can help you Harry,' said the voice, soft and full of promise. 'I can give you want you want.'

Harry wanted to believe it. And he recognized, on some level that he was getting blinded by that want, but it was easy to ignore caution, when a voice within him cried out for the opportunity - yearned for the chance. When had he ever gained anything by sitting around and being cautious? He had taken a risk with the peacocks, he had sent Snape away of his own ability; he flew with abandon, and could cast spells against older students with ease. His instincts screamed for action, and the power to act on his desires.

'I want power,' Harry thought.

There was a bizarre feeling in Harry's head, almost like a strange tickle, and Harry realized the Dark Lord was laughing, low and pleased. Strangely, the sensation sent chills down his spine.

'I can give you power. More power than you can even imagine,' the Dark Lord answered. 'Power enough to change minds and sway hearts.'

Power enough to sway Holly's heart? 'I want that power,' Harry thought.

That strange, almost-tickle feeling returned as the Dark Lord laughed again. 'Of course you do,' the voice murmured, soft and seductive.

'What do you want in return?' Harry asked. He was raised a pure-blood, and knew not to expect something for nothing. 'Only my allegiance?'

Harry waited for a reply, but was met with only silence. He waited for a long time, until eventually, the next phase of sleep stole away his consciousness, and he was taken by the soft and gentle nothingness.

-o-

When Harry awoke the next day, he was startled to see that Holly was already up. Bellatrix was still tangled up in her covers, lightly snoring, before breaking off into a soft moan, and saying words that sounded like 'no', and 'no not dementors.' He didn't give it too much thought; he knew from their earlier travels that Bellatrix would clam up if he mentioned her sleep talking. The topic was a sore point for her. Instead, his thoughts drifted towards his sleep, and towards a conversation he could now clearly recall. He had spoken to the Dark Lord. Had that been real? He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked up at his sister on the sofa.

"You're awake," he observed, pointing out the obvious.

Holly looked down towards him and then nodded.

Harry bit down on his lower lip. "Did you - have any dreams?" He wanted to know if the Dark Lord had spoken to Holly as well.

Holly shook her head.

"Nothing?" he questioned, surprised. "No nightmares either?"

"Nothing," Holly said emotionlessly. "Just nothing."

Harry's brows drew together. So the Dark Lord hadn't spoken to Holly at all. Was it because Holly had pushed the Dark Lord from her mind before? Or were there other reasons?

"What's going on, Harry?"

Holly's words pulled Harry from his mulling. Should he tell her? But Holly had specifically said that she wouldn't follow the Dark Lord, so why should Harry tell her. If she could keep secrets, then so too could he.

"Nothing," he lied.

Holly narrowed her eyes at him. "You're a terrible liar."

"So are you," Harry spat out.

Holly seemed to recoil at the words, her nostrils flaring. Her cheeks flushed red, and she turned away from him, as if determined to ignore him. Harry considered apologizing but then changed his mind. If Holly had no intention of being fair, than Harry could give what he got.

When Bellatrix finally awoke, they went down to the inn's dining area, where the innkeeper informed them that their house-elf had arrived a few hours prior.

"Finally," Bellatrix uttered. "House-elves can be so unreliable."

The innkeeper gave Bellatrix an uncertain nod, and Harry wondered if the innkeeper even had a house-elf. Mr Praos had once mentioned that most people couldn't afford the contracts that gave them ownership of an elf. Harry only remembered it because of Draco's disbelief ("but how do they keep their homes clean, and how do they eat without a house-elf to make food?") Harry sighed. He missed Draco.

Once Bellatrix ascertained that the house-elf had indeed arrived, and once she finished checking over their belongings she shrank the trunk so she could keep it close at hand. Giving a nod of satisfaction, she commanded the house-elf to remain within the expanded space of the trunk, where it would be out of the way.

"Now, our mission," Bellatrix declared. "Come along, you two." She quickly exited the small inn, the twins trailing behind her, and Harry could see her relief at being free of the shoddy, confined space.

"Shouldn't we wait for Uncle Lucius?" Harry questioned.

Bellatrix scowled. "He can find us himself. I'm not waiting around for _Uncle Lucy_."

Harry frowned at her mocking tone, but knew better than to defend his uncle in front of Bellatrix. "How will you find the Dark Lord?" he asked instead.

"A communication spell should work now that we are close enough," she explained. "Similar to the one I used in the cave."

Harry nodded in comprehension.

"Now don't interrupt me. I'm going to perform the spell now, and I won't have you distracting me from the Dark Lord's instructions."

"I understand," Harry replied obediently. He looked over his shoulder, to Holly who was lagging behind, but she wasn't even paying attention to either Harry or Bellatrix. Instead, she appeared to be scanning the surroundings. Harry tried to follow her gaze, but aside from the few villagers, he couldn't guess what she was looking at.

Moments later, he heard Bellatrix exclaim: "My Lord! Yes, I have the ritual My Lord!

A few people on the street gave Bellatrix curious glances, but the people here were witches and wizards, and they were no stranger to strange sights. A person speaking to themselves ranked fairly low in terms of being an odd occurrence.

"The forest? Snakes?" Bellatrix was saying. "Near the bend of a stream. And to the south? Yes, My Lord, I understand." She peered over at the twins before looking away. "They're with me. Others? Well -" she seemed reluctant to say any more, "Lucius will be there." Her expression was starting to look distinctly sour. "Yes, My Lord, he has remained loyal. Yes, My Lord. It is the greatest honour to serve you."

It was easy for Harry to tell when the communication finally ended by the lost expression that momentarily appeared on Bellatrix's face. If he hadn't been so observant, he likely wouldn't have seen it because moments later, Bellatrix was resolute as she said: "Let's go."

"Are we walking?" Harry wondered. "The house-elf didn't bring Hamal and Sheratan?"

"I'm not about to bring back the Dark Lord riding on the back of a goat," Bellatrix said disdainfully.

"Oh." Harry had assumed - but he supposed he was wrong. It was disappointing. One of the few things he enjoyed about their last trip was the hitzetiers (that and the toy and candy store in Tysbastval.)

"We can apparate part of the way to a magical node. It shouldn't take longer than a day. Two at most. No - a day," Bellatrix decided, and Harry wondered if hope was making her over-confident. He loved his adopted mother, but Lady Aloli had said that it did no good to be blind to one's loved ones ("You can protect them best if you know their weaknesses, as hard as they are to see. My Terence always was a charmer, but his weakness was that he could be generous to a fault.")

Bellatrix held out a hand for Harry to take, and he in turn held out his own hand towards Holly. She looked down at his hand, hesitating, before peering over her own shoulder.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, his voice low.

But before Holly could answer, Bellatrix cut in, giving Harry's hand an impatient jerk. "What's taking so long! We can't keep the Dark Lord waiting. He's waited too long already."

"Come on," Harry said to his sister, who nodded unhappily before taking his hand. They gritted their teeth against the sickening compression of apparition, and a crack later, they arrived in what appeared to be the middle of a forest.

The atmosphere here had an interesting quality, as if the air here was denser, but in a pleasant way. The feeling reminded Harry of a hug - a rather alien hug that made his skin tingle, even under his robes. It took a moment to recognize the feeling as magic. Maybe that was what Bellatrix meant by a 'magical node.'

Harry looked up at Bellatrix. "Mama?"

"Hm?" She absently replied, too busy scanning the surrounding area.

"How did you apparate here? Have you been here before?"

"You want a lesson? _Now_?"

Harry bit down on his lips. Bellatrix was much more impatient than usual.

But then Bellatrix sighed and gave Harry a tight smile. "It's good, Harry. The Dark Lord will value your sharp mind. To answer your little question, no, I've never apparated here. As I've said before, apparating to some place that you've never travelled to before is incredibly dangerous - you're liable to end up in the middle of tree or halfway in a wall." She snorted as if amused by such a thought. "A bloody mess, and I mean that in the literal sense. Magical nodes are natural magic sinks - places where magic is more saturated and powerful. Most wizarding villages are built on magical nodes. Schools as well, for that matter. Being able to draw on the magic of the land can provide a stable, long-lasting basis for protective enchantments. Magical nodes also strengthen spells. If ever you decide to apparate somewhere you've never been, direct yourself to a node. You'll eventually learn to sense them, with practice. Though the closer you are to one, the easier it is."

Harry furrowed his brows. "So that's how Uncle Lucius will find us?"

Bellatrix scowled. "Yes. That's how _Lucy_ will find us."

But Harry wasn't finished with his questions. In fact, what Bellatrix had told him was only causing him to formulate more questions in his mind. Disquieting questions. "So, does that means that _others_ will be able to find us as well?"

Bellatrix's gave him a look somewhere between puzzled and irritated, her lips a diagonal sort of pout. "Others? What are you talking about?"

Harry's eyes slid towards his sister, who seemed to be holding herself taut, watching Harry with disturbing intensity. There was a humming sense of anticipation in the air, though whether it was from the magic in the air, or from Holly or Bellatrix, it was hard to tell.

"I mean - other people. Other people that might want to be here."

Bellatrix frowned. "There _aren't_ others who would want - or need to be here. No one _knows_ of what I know - what we know. The aurors certainly shan't find us - they couldn't even find me at Malfoy manor, which was practically right under their noses. Useless, the lot of them! They're all a bunch of weak Ministry dogs, who only care about what's politically expedient."

Harry looked away from Bellatrix. Her eyes had a wild and angry gleam, and he knew he couldn't really clarify what he meant. Not without giving away his ever growing suspicions about Holly, and as much as he wanted more allies on his side, he knew that Holly would never, ever forgive him if he spoke of this to Bellatrix. He'd rather suffer this painful estrangement from his sister, than her outright hatred. Things might be bad between them, but Harry still loved her, and the last thing he wanted to do was turn that love into something withered and dark. Things were already withered enough as it was. It seemed like the only way to solve this would be to find the Dark Lord, and _quick_. Because Holly wasn't just looking around out of curiosity. She was looking for _something_. He was sure of it.

He gave Holly yet another look before staring off into the distance. "That's all I wanted to know."

Bellatrix gave him a curt nod. "Clever boy. Come now. No time to waste. We're close - so close." There was a tremour in her voice, from the excitement that spilled out of her. Harry was starting to feel excited as well, if the flutter in his chest, and coil in his gut was any indication.

Harry observed with open curiosity as Bellatrix's long and bony fingers caressed the tattoo on her arm; the tattoo that she claimed represented her complete and utter devotion to her master: her Dark Mark. A light shudder ran through her, but Harry couldn't determine whether it was just a chill, or whether it was pleasure that she felt. She looked almost ravenous, but not for food.

"I'm coming for you, Master," she said, her voice barely audible, and yet thick with emotion. "Wherever you are, I'll find you."

As though guided by some inner light, she began to walk, each footstep firm with certainty. Harry looked back at Holly, offering a hand to her. But his sister only looked down at his hand, as if unsure of what to do with it. After what felt like a sickening lifetime of waiting, Harry let his hand drop.

"Come on, Holly," he said. It was more of a plea than an order or suggestion. Her green eyes met his own, and through their link, there was a flicker of emotion, before she nodded.

Through the trees, Harry could still see Bellatrix steadily moving forwards, and he hastened his steps to catch up to her, occasionally peering over his shoulder to make sure that Holly followed (though link assured him that she remained close.) They had to _hurry_.

There was no real path here in these woods, and Harry had to be careful not to trip on roots, or walk into branches and shrubs. But being in the woods was familiar - his instincts seemed to sharpen and take in everything around him, as if he were once again a hunter seeking out prey. Even Holly walked with a certain confidence, her steps light.

Harry _still_ couldn't shake the impression that she was looking for something specific. But what was she looking for? Who or what could be out here in the dark woods of Albania other than the Dark Lord? And that parchment she had given to Dobby - what had that been about? When he looked over his shoulder yet again at Holly, their eyes met. Her expression seemed to carry a warning or a dare. A challenge or a threat. Should he say something? Meet that challenge? But what could he say that hadn't already been said? What other accusations were there to throw at her? He turned away, nails making deep crescents in his palm, and jaw clenched tight.

As the twins followed Bellatrix, the hours flowed into the next with molasses-like speed and the angle of the shadows shifted with the moving of the sun. Every second that passed felt like a score for Holly, though Harry couldn't say why he felt that way. All he knew was that the finish line was finding the Dark Lord. They _had_ to find him. Soon.

As they trotted forward, they could hear the soft trickle of a stream up ahead, the sound blending with the rustling of leaves above their head. There was a motion at the corner of Harry's eye, and when he looked down, he saw a small dark green snake, slithering away under the glossy green groundcover. But the sight didn't frighten him. Snakes were to be honoured, or so Bellatrix always said. It was a good sign, and a small hope unfurled in his chest.

"It's close," Bellatrix exhaled shakily. "Merlin and Morgaine -"

Harry nodded, feeling a little shaky himself, but Bellatrix didn't even see him. She only paused to steady her own trembling, before stepping forward to follow the winding of the stream. When Harry checked Holly, she too wasn't paying attention to Harry. Holly's eyes kept searching, searching, her lips compressed into a tight white line. The silent score was changing, and things were moving in his favour. But when she finally noticed Harry's gaze, she lifted her her chin, that belligerent spark returning, despite the relative coolness of her emotions. He looked away. He had to win this. But what 'this' was, he still couldn't put a finger on.

They travelled alongside the small stream until they eventually reached a bend, and Bellatrix sucked in a breath.

"Here," she murmured, caressing the Mark on her arm once again. "Yes -" she spun around, as if taking in all of their surroundings, "here. I can _feel_ it."

Harry couldn't tell if it was Bellatrix's pattering heartbeats in his ear or his own. The dense feeling of magic lingered in the air, but it held a more chaotic quality, more like sharp claws than a soft hug. Through his link with his sister, emotions were starting to seep through - worry, fear - all bad things. His scar twinged with pain. Harry wanted to comfort her. But he made no move in Holly's direction.

"My Lord?" Bellatrix called out, sounding oddly small. "My Lord, I'm here."

Harry shivered. His scar was pulsing now, stinging with an electric feel that made him shudder. It felt familiar. It felt painful. It felt _intimate_.

A long moan seemed to drag out of Bellatrix's lips, her eyelids drifting shut, and her head thrown back. "Yess," she hissed. "Yes, master, I'm _yours_."

The ground seemed to come to life in strange undulating, coiling motions, and voices encircled Harry, saying: "_Warm blood… Ssweet ssmell… Magic taste… Great One, the warm bloodss are here… Ssweet taste… Magic ssmell…."_ His eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and alarm when he realized it wasn't the movement of shadows or vines, but snakes. Snakes _everywhere_. Large, small, greens, blacks, browns, and all of them scenting the air, winding ever closer. His legs felt strangely weak.

A horrified sound stole out of Holly's mouth and her feet shuffled back until she hit a tree, her back pressed against the bark as if she wanted to merge herself with that rough material. She searched the surroundings, head turning back and forth frantically, before climbing up upon a nearby fallen trunk. It was a pitiful defense. Harry quickly made his way over to her, hands gripped tightly around his wand which felt more oily than ever before. He looked up at her pale and frightened face, but she didn't seem to see him, eyes fixed on the writhing ground.

"I won't let anything hurt you," Harry swore. "You're safe with me." He didn't know how much weight his words carried, but Harry meant them with every fibre of his being. He'd _die_ for Holly if he had to.

The words seem to completely pass through Holly. Only the smallest whisper of change in their link indicated that she had heard him. The rest of her emotions had given way to fear, thrumming through their link in relentless gusts. He turned back around to face the bizarre sight. He wasn't afraid of snakes. But this. This was something else.

"_Ssweet taste… Magic taste…. Great One, we wish to taste…_"

"Stay away!" Harry cried, but it sounded less like an order and more like a plea.

Oddly enough, the movement of the snakes seemed to pause.

"_A sspeaker…_" the voices said all around him. "_Sspeaker… a sspeaker…. Sspeaker…. sspeaker…._"

From the left, Bellatrix's voice dragged Harry's attention away from the mass of snakes. "I will prepare now." Her eyes were glassy, teeth bared in a bizarre rictus. Her wand was out, and vials of mysterious ingredients were floating out of her open trunk towards her, as she made her way in some sort of perimeter that only she could see. Every movement was so sure, it was almost as if she had done this a million times before. The sight should have made him glad, but all he felt now was a cold blade of fear. His fear. Holly's fear. He couldn't tell the difference.

The brief glance at Bellatrix meant that Harry hadn't been paying attention to the snakes. He could still hear the word: '_sspeaker_' repeated around him, and when he looked back at that tangled mass, he saw that the snakes seemed to have coalesced into one, as if to form a single, horrifically enormous snake. The individual voices were fading into a single:

"_Harry_."

-o-

Harry's eyes bulged out of his head, unable to believe what he had just heard.

"_Harry_," the voice said again. Harry _knew_ that voice. How could it be coming out of that bizarre mass of snakes in front of him?

"'M-my Lord?" he stammered. The title felt strange on his tongue - more deferential than he was accustomed to. While it was true that Harry acted deferential towards Lucius (and while the respect was genuine), the fact was that it still _felt_ like just an act. How he treated the Dark Lord - that wasn't supposed to be an act. Harry knew without being told that it would be terrible to pretend anything with the Dark Lord. Or perhaps it was the rather awe-inspiring (and terrifying) sight of the giant mass of snakes that made that realization a hard reality.

"_She's here_."

Harry's eyes flicked towards Bellatrix, who was still circling the area, her lips moving in an unheard mantra, and her wand drawing symbols in the air, while an occasional ingredient would whirl around her, before dropping to the ground. But Harry knew that the Dark Lord wasn't talking about Bellatrix; he was talking about Holly. And knowing that Holly was afraid - that she was relying on him gave Harry strength and he stood straighter, his hand gripped tightly around his wand which hummed from the magical energy of this strange place.

"_And another_," the voice murmured. The sinuous mass of snakes rose up, its head-like shape looking at something over Harry's shoulder. Harry wasn't sure if whether he dared to peer behind himself, or whether to keep his eyes fixed upon the snake, as if a moment of inattentiveness would result in some terrible predatory strike against himself or his sister. Or were those Holly's fears? He couldn't differentiate - the fear was so immediate, it seemed to thrum through his body.

But Harry couldn't stop himself. He followed the Dark Lord's gaze, spotted Bellatrix's open trunk, and his heart leapt to his throat. That movement by the trunk - a flash of pale silvery blond - it wasn't a house-elf like his first impression suggested. No - how could this be?

"Draco?" Harry croaked. "What are you _doing_ here?" Oh Merlin, he couldn't handle this. This was what Harry _wanted_, but Holly's fear was scrambling his mind, overriding his senses, and it was all _too much_.

Draco had never looked so small, the way he was huddled by the trunk, unable to decide whether he should be keeping his eyes pinned to the snake-like creature or to look towards Harry. And around him, the magic seem to quiver with frenzied energy, making Harry's hairs stand even more on end, while his scar threatened to split his head in half. This was bad. Very bad. Holly was losing her grip on her magic. And if something happened - if that magic were to fly out towards that mass of snakes - towards the _Dark Lord_, then who knew what might happen. The Dark Lord could turn against Holly - turn against them both. Possibly even turn Bellatrix against them. His heart and lungs felt like they was being cruelly constricted by a giant fist. His fear was amplifying Holly's

The giant snake was drawing closer. It's eyes were gaping hollows of terrible emptiness. And though he did not know why, Harry couldn't look away. But Holly's abject terror was ripping his emotions to shreds, and his own lack of control was like a spark about to ignite the flame - it was too much. Split seconds later, Harry felt Holly's magic erupt, and there was no time to think. He was acting on pure instincts.

For as long as he could remember, Harry's instincts had always leaned towards defensive magic. This time was no different, except that he had a better sense of his own magic, and a greater degree of control. Or so he thought. But in this case he wrong. And the fact that Holly had spent the past weeks - perhaps months - hiding things from him meant that he didn't have his usual finely-tuned sense of her strength, her power. Perhaps seeing Bellatrix easily deflect magic had something to do with it. Perhaps he wasn't misjudging Holly, but misjudging his own abilities. All he knew was that one moment, the air was crackling and a sickly, reddish-black beam was flying towards the giant snake, and the next, Harry's magic had acted, and instead of the beam deflecting sideways or dissipating, it was flying straight back at Holly, the colour oddly changed, but the speed so terrifyingly fast it was unavoidable.

Holly's mouth fell open in a surprised and disbelieving 'o' before the beam hit her. She swayed, and Harry reached out to grab her as she sagged into his arms.

He tried to examine her face, horrified and alarmed by the turn of events. "Holly?" Her eyes were open, but glazed. She looked less like his sister and more like a doll. He gave her a light shake. She wasn't entirely limp, but she also wasn't entirely there.

"Holly?" he said again, his voice cracking. Oh Merlin, what had he done? This was all his fault. He found himself clinging to her, as if he were the one whose mind and senses had been stolen. In truth, he wished they had been.

"_Harry_." The voice was right by his ear, but it felt cold instead of hot, and a shudder coursed through his body. When he turned to look, he was faced with the giant snake, staring into those hollow and unfathomable eyes. It was impossible to look away.

"_Sshe'll be fine, Harry_," the voice soothed. "_It's only temporary. Sshe'll return to how sshe wass, ssoon enough_."

"She will?" Harry wondered pitifully, desperately needing the reassurance.

"_Sshe will_," the voice echoed, the words like a soft stroke against the shell of his ear, and the back of his neck.

It was what Harry needed to hear. He exhaled his tension, feeling as boneless as a kneazle in the sun.

The giant snake suddenly pulled away, its individual pieces almost vibrating with intense anticipation.

"_Ssomeone hass arrived._"

Harry lifted his head, clutching Holly closer as he scanned the surroundings.

"_Luciuss._"

Harry's eyes met his uncle's, and although the older man appeared as poised and unruffled as ever, projecting a confidence that under ordinary circumstances would have made Harry feel secure and pleased in his company, Harry's observant eyes spotted details that he wouldn't have noticed without months of learning: Lucius's fingers twitching as if ready to draw his wand, the small tic in his jaw, the strain in his eyes as his glance kept darting from Draco towards the twins, and back at Draco.

"_We can begin the ritual._" The giant snake - the Dark Lord, rather, turned his attention back to Harry. Those hollow eyes seemed to see far too much. And yet, it was oddly comforting. Someone else had the situation well in hand. Holly was going to be all right. Harry didn't have to think, to worry. His scar seemed to buzz, as if filled with a nest of hornets. But Harry didn't mind.

"_Take your ssister and go stand over there with the young Malfoy,_" the voice urged. Commanded. "_Go sstand over there and watch. Pay close attention, Harry. Your loyalty will be well rewarded_."

Harry nodded. Pulling one of Holly's arms around his shoulder, he supported her weight at her waist. Her limbs were as dependable as ribbons in the wind, but the pair of them still managed to stumble their way over to a wide-eyed Draco, who looked more frightened than Harry had ever seen him in his life.

"Harry," Draco cried out, though it sounded more like a plea for a lifeline than a greeting. The blond snatched at Harry's robes as he neared, gripping tightly, as though sight and sound weren't enough reassurance.

"I have to -" Harry looked over at his vacant-eyed sister, indicated with his head that he needed to set her down. Draco's nose wrinkled when he realized what Harry wanted, but Harry guessed right when he assumed his friend would help him, and Draco released Harry's robes, helping to bear some of Holly's weight. The pair of them set her down on the ground, her back propped up against a tree, and through it all, her breathing remained deep and even, and her eyes chillingly blank.

"What happened to her?" Draco asked, as Harry examined his sister with more attention than a jeweler gave to the rarest of gems. "What's going on here, Harry? What is that snake thing? And why were you hissing at it?"

"I -" Harry forced his eyes away from Holly, reminding himself that the Dark Lord said she would be all right. It _had_ to be true. Harry couldn't bear to believe otherwise. Instead, he met Draco's eyes, vaguely aware that he had been questioned but unable to turn his mind towards sorting out words and meanings.

"What are you doing here?" Harry wondered. "How did you get here? Did you come here with your father?"

Draco's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Are you daft? Didn't you notice that I was here before my father? I saw you and - and that snake thing looking my way."

Harry blinked. "Oh - I -" he shook his head slowly. "No."

Draco gave Harry a searching look, his lips strained and chin wrinkled in troubled thought. His eyes darted a nervous glance towards the adults before answering. "I snuck here in Aunt Bella's suitcase," he confided, gesturing to the object in question. "I wasn't about to let you leave without me. But I didn't realize that - this -" he looked over at the adults again, face paling. "Harry. What's going on here? You didn't answer my questions. You were - you were _hissing_ at that snake. Hissing! Like -" he searched Harry's face, as if he had never seen him before, "- like you were speaking parseltongue."

"Parseltongue?" Harry echoed.

Draco nodded, perplexed by Harry's apparent ignorance. "Don't you remember Mr Praos's lessons? Or, wait, those might have been before you arrived. It's the language of _snakes._ You know, the same thing that the Dark Lor -" Draco's eyes widened as his eyes slid over to the giant snake-creature. "Oh Merlin. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin - That - is that the Dark Lord?" Draco's already pale face had turned an even more pallid shade, as his eyes fearfully darted to the scene where their parents were performing the ritual.

"Yeah," Harry answered, causing Draco's skin to take on a greenish hue. "It is. At least I think - No, I'm sure. It is."

Draco's eyes remained stuck on the snake-creature. He was so still, as if his very immobility somehow rendered him invisible and safe.

"Draco?" Harry's voice was tinged with worry for his friend. He had never seen Draco like this. But didn't Draco support the Dark Lord as much as the rest of his family? Harry's gaze returned to the giant snake, and he shivered. He supposed, if Draco had never spoken to it before, that it certainly looked terrifying. He took in the rest of the scene. All of the ingredients that Bellatrix had brought had been set in place. There was a pall of heavy darkness that hung over the site, so dense that it looked suffocating. Bellatrix's wild hair stuck to her sweat-dampened skin, her hands busy with drawing out half-familiar symbols. Lucius was across from her, his hands a slick and shiny silver. Despite the colour, the sight of it reminded Harry of blood. It just looked _wrong_.

He knew he should have been paying attention. But he needed to make sure that Draco was all right, and to reassure his friend, first he needed his attention.

"Draco!" he repeated, placing his hands on the blond's shoulders. Finally, Draco returned his attention back to Harry.

"I thought - wasn't the Dark Lord supposed to be -" Draco's voice was hushed and tremulous as he trailed off.

"Draco?" Harry squeezed Draco's shoulders. But Draco had pursed his lips and was shaking his head, as if he did not dare to utter the words. When Harry peered back towards the ritual scene, the giant snake was looking their way, empty eyes full of _knowing_. Beneath his hands, he felt Draco tremble. Harry felt his own shiver of apprehension, but he quickly shoved aside the feelings of unease. Instead, he gave the giant snake a nod, and after an indeterminable amount of time, the snake nodded in return.

Harry turned back to Draco. "Draco. It's going to be all right. The Dark Lord is here to help us," Harry assured him, his voice low. Or was Harry trying to assure himself? Draco's eyes were still wide. Still scared. It made Harry feel scared as well. "Do you trust me? Best friends, right? Forever?"

Grey eyes stared into green ones, and eventually, Draco gave Harry a small nod, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.

A shaky sigh slipped out of Draco's lips. "Yeah. I trust you Harry. I trust you completely. Even though you _are_ an idiot."

Harry smiled in relief. "Yeah, and you're -" before Harry could finish with his own affectionate insult, a scream rent through the air, amplified and distorted into fractured echoes from the dense darkness the ritual had created. Both boys looked towards the scene, and Harry's mouth fell open in horror and disbelief at the sight that greeted him. He could feel his heart thudding wildly in his chest, like trapped bird trying to slam its way out.

"Mama!" he screamed, already closing the distance between them before Draco could hold him back. There was so much blood - on the ground, the trees, the snakes, and magically suspended in the air. Even Lucius was covered in crimson droplets. And all of it, Bellatrix's blood.

But before he could reach the scene, he felt something wrapping around his ankles, and he tripped forward, falling hard enough bruise his body and knock the breath from his lungs. He looked down at his legs, eyes widening in dismay to see the two thick snakes that kept him from moving.

"Let me go!" he cried out. "I have to help her!"

Despite the blood that spurted out of her - despite the colour rapidly draining from her face, Bellatrix did not look distressed. Though it was difficult to see past the darkness, Bellatrix's eyes were now clear and bright, and her expression triumphant.

"Lifeblood and limb, I give to my Master with joy," he heard her say, her voice still distorted into arrhythmic broken echoes.

Across from her, Lucius drew out an intricate shape in the air, and strands of dark silvery magic encircled those of them within the ritual area. "Sacrificed witnessed, and sacrificed bound, by Earth and Sky, By Light and Dark," the man intoned.

Harry felt the constriction tighten around his ankles. He looked over his shoulders, startled to see a terrified-looking Draco attempting to loosen the bonds of the snakes using only a long stick.

"I can't Harry!" Draco moaned, his voice both frustrated and distraught, as the thick snakes hissed menacingly. "They won't let go!"

"Keep trying!" Harry insisted, ignoring the intensifying pain as the pressure of the snakes' bodies increased.

He turned back to the ritual scene. The giant snake was gone, and there was only a writhing mass of chaotic sinuous bodies on the ground. The pall of darkness was concentrating in the center, between a bloodied Lucius and a bleeding Bellatrix. The dark silver strands curled around the dark mass, in a hypnotic and undulating pattern, as that darkness turned into something tangible and solid. A body.

A paleness bloomed in the dark mass - the colour of pallid skin. Harry could see the curved row of ribs, and the ridge of a long spine. Long limbs, with bony fingers appeared, and a head, topped with a shock of black hair. The man's eyes were closed and fringed with a dark fan of lashes. Harry couldn't begin to guess at his age, but objectively, there was no denying the beauty of that face. That completely still, and unmoving face.

"Lucius -" Bellatrix hissed, causing Harry to look up at his adopted mother's face, which was wide-eyed with confusion and uncertainty. "Why isn't he moving? Why does he look like that?"

"I -" Lucius's expression was dazed, and Harry had a feeling that he was magically drained. "I don't understand it. It should have worked -"

Bellatrix fell to her knees, looking increasingly worse as she bled out. "My Lord? Master?" she said, sounding more pitiful than Harry had ever heard her before. "Master - please -" she reached out a hand towards the body, but did not dare to touch it. Instead, she looked up at Lucius, her eyes shining and expression fierce.

"_Do_ something!" she hissed. "Please!" She looked back down at the body, and even from where he was lying Harry could see her trembling. "Master - master, please. It's me, your most loyal servant. Tell me what to do Master! I can't -" her voice cracked, "I can't hear your voice. Come back Master. Please? Come back..."

Behind him, he heard Draco whisper an urgent: "Harry!"

Harry didn't want to tear his eyes from the scene, but he looked back at his friend's dire tone.

"Look!" Draco pointed at Harry's ankles, and Harry's eyes widened when he realized that the snakes had released him, and were slithering away into the shadows.

Harry gave Draco a grateful look, and as if understanding his thoughts, Draco gave him a firm nod, that silently said: 'Go.'

Pushing himself up, Harry rushed towards the adults, throwing his arms out to support Bellatrix's weight before she collapsed from bleeding out.

"Mama!" he cried. "You need healing! We have to heal you!" He looked up at his uncle, eyes huge and pleading, but Lucius shook his head helplessly.

"The ritual -" Lucius croaked. "It took all I had. I cannot -" he kept shaking his head, expression dazed. "I cannot -"

"Then I have to -"

"No!" Bellatrix interrupted in a tone that brooked no arguments. "No, Harry, sweet one. Save the Dark Lord. _Please_."

Harry shook his head, feeling tears burning at his eyes, and his heart viciously clawing up his throat. "No," he choked out. "Don't ask that of me, mama - don't ask that - anything but that -"

Bellatrix lifted a weak and bloodied hand to his face, tilting it so that he had no choice but to meet her bright eyes. "Do it, Harry. Promise me you will. If you love me, you'll do it. You'll save the Dark Lord."

"I - I -" he tried to shake his head, but Bellatrix's hand remained firm.

"Please," Bellatrix repeated, her voice fading into a whisper as her lifeblood flowed out. "_Please_."

Though Harry didn't want to, he couldn't say no to her. Not with the way she was begging, but it didn't stop him from feeling like his heart was shattering into a million pieces as he nodded.

"All right, mama," he whispered brokenly. "I -" he swallowed painfully. "I promise."

Bellatrix gave him a smile that was pure joy before her eyes fluttered closed and her weight sagged to the ground.

"Mama?" Harry frantically said, giving her a panicked shake.

"'m here, Harry, my love," she murmured. "Help...th' Dark...Lord..."

Harry's chest felt like it was being painfully squeezed in a vice, but he nodded, releasing Bellatrix and looking down at the pale, motionless body. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. And if he had been in his right mind, perhaps he would have been hesitant to trust his instincts again. But Harry wasn't in his right mind. His mind was lost to pain and hurt, and his heart felt like it was pushing grief instead of blood through his veins.

Harry's wand was already in hand as he reached out and touched the pale body. It felt like ice beneath his fingers. Tears were streaming down his face, but Harry ignored them, focusing only on the magic that flowed in him and around him. The oiliness of his wand felt smoother than it had ever felt before, almost thrumming with the overwhelming amount of magic of this strange place.

But stronger than the magic, stronger than Harry's grief, was overflowing love in his heart. Love for his mama, love for Holly. Love for Draco, Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa. Love for the mysterious stranger beneath his hands, who had opened himself up, and commiserated with Harry, sharing understanding and past hurts. Beneath Harry's hand, the pale flesh began to heat and smoke. It began to _burn_.

Harry didn't know if what he was doing was wrong or right. He was vaguely aware that Lucius was saying something, but he couldn't seem to hear over his pulse, pounding its booming beat in his ears. Tired, and heartsick, his weight fell over the body in a strange, half-embrace, and the smoking, crackling burn continued to spread, over the man's ribs, arms, legs, and up one cheek.

But then, he felt a horrifying pain in his scar, as if a fire elemental was within, trying to tear its way out of that too-small space. A scream ripped at his throat, as his vision pulsed black and white, and distantly, he was aware of Holly crying out: "Harry!"

He blacked out for a brief moment, and when his consciousness returned to him, he was in Draco's arms, Lucius standing protectively over them. But it wasn't Draco who was important. His eyes widened in horror when he saw his sister, in the arms of a snarling Snape, who had his wand aimed straight at a dark-haired man's heart. The Dark Lord.

"She is not yours to take, _traitor_," the Dark Lord growled.

"Harry!" Holly cried out, and though Harry tried to stand - tried to move towards her - to save her, his body refused to obey. All he could do was feel the relentless pounding of his heart, reminding him of his own uselessness.

"Please, we can't leave without Harry!" Holly desperately said. "You promised me you'd take Harry!"

The Dark Lord, now draped in black robes, sent a vicious spell towards the lanky-haired man, but Snape deftly dodged, even with Holly in hand. Harry recognized the wand in the Dark Lord's hands. It was _his_ wand.

"Please!" Holly was begging. "We _have_ to take Harry. We can't leave him with _them_."

"Holly," Harry croaked, causing Draco to tighten his grip as he said a frantic: "Harry? Harry, are you all right? Harry!"

But it wasn't Draco that Harry was concerned with.

"Please!" Holly entreated. "I can't do this without Harry!"

But even from this distance, he heard Snape say: "I cannot. He is too far. Too well protected. We - we must go."

And somehow, despite Harry's weakness, he was screaming once again as a sharp crack pierced through the air, and the link that he felt between him and his sister was mercilessly severed.

-o-

_Epilogue_

Harry sat on the floor of the darkened bedroom, arms resting on his upraised knees and absently playing with the wand in his hand. Since returning to Malfoy manor, he had been moved to a new bedroom - one that was adjoined with Draco's. According to the adults, it was so he wouldn't have to be alone during this 'difficult time.'

Difficult was one way of putting it.

Perhaps they thought he would run away? That he would try and find Holly? Harry was no fool. Despite his desperation, he had an awareness of how vast the world was, of how difficult it would be to find one girl amidst billions of people. His chances were better if he had resources. And here in Malfoy manor, there were resources aplenty.

Either way, Harry wasn't currently in his bedroom. He was in Bellatrix's bedroom. He could feel her hand on his shoulder. Her cold. Dead. Hand.

How had it come to this?

After the Dark Lord's returned, Harry learned a terrible, new fact: That one couldn't bring the dead back to life. But Harry had begged. He had pleaded. And it was his actions which had ultimately brought the Dark Lord back. So the Dark Lord had acquiesced to Harry's wishes, in a manner of speaking. The Dark Lord had brought Bellatrix back. But only her body. That was all he could do, with his so-called 'great power.' Bellatrix was an inferius.

Narcissa said it was an abomination. But what did Aunt Narcissa know? She never even came in here. The only other person that ever came in here was Draco, and Harry knew that Draco only ever entered for Harry's sake. Draco was loyal like that.

Harry tilted his head to press his cheek against that cold, dead hand.

"I'm going to try again, mama," Harry murmured. "I'm going to find her."

He tightened his grip on his wand, and squeezed his eyelids shut. He searched that empty space within him, that his link with Holly should have filled. Her absence felt sickening - like missing limb - no, worse. Far worse. But this was Holly. He _had_ to find her. Even if it killed him.

Gathering up his magic, he pushed outwards, desperately seeking, like he had every day since he had been returned to the manor. He felt himself starting to get light-headed. He felt his skin tearing, and blood oozing from the backlash of his wand. He knew he should have given up - it would serve no purpose (except worry Draco and the adults) if he passed out. But although Harry could sense the blackness throwing hooks into his mind, he kept pushing.

Until.

There!

'Holly!' he thought.

The feeling strengthened. It _was_ her. He had found her!

The love within him that he thought withered and dead, sprouted anew. And all that he had within him, he sent to his sister.

But then a fear seized him. Was she angry at him? What if - what if she couldn't forgive him for what had happened? Harry had been so obsessed with finding Holly since his return to the manor that he had all but forgotten about those difficult weeks before they left for Albania. But now, the memory returned with full, brutal force, reminding Harry of how he had failed, of all he had done wrong. Why hadn't he just done as Holly wanted? If he had, maybe everyone would still be alive.

But then, a wonderful thing happened. He felt it - her love, that she was sending in return. She still loved him. After all that, she still loved him. He felt tears prickling at his eyes, and a swelling thickness in his throat. A choked sound slipped from his lips, but there was no one but Bellatrix to hear it, and Bellatrix was silent and patient listener.

A tremulous smile pulled at his lips. "Holly," he murmured out loud. "I found you. I found you."

He sunk his face into his palms, his body shaking in silent, relieved sobs. He could feel Holly reflecting his own emotions.

"I'm going to find you, Holly," he promised, and though he knew she couldn't hear him, she would sense his intent.

"I'm going to find you. And -" he aggressively wiped away his tears. There was no room for weakness. Not anymore.

"I'm going to _kill_ Snape."


End file.
